


Mistake

by Ermmmmmm



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:27:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4719347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ermmmmmm/pseuds/Ermmmmmm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some mistakes cannot be undone; some decisions have no right answers. One thing is certain: standing still is not an option.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> New fic has finally started! :) Hope you enjoy this, but this will be quite angsty, so if you're not into that, I probably wouldn't read this. I already know where this is ending, and there are a lot of twists along the way, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I have planning it. Enjoy this, the prologue!

 

Adrenaline fuelled his muscles. He could feel it pulsate wildly around his veins, the bitter taste mixed deliciously with the alcohol on his tongue. The small glasses shined beautifully on the sticky surface, the liquid sloshing around invitingly as it was poured. It left the glass as soon as it entered, bursting fantastically in an expression of euphoria and disgust as it slid down the pinkness of his tongue and towards his throat. The burn that ripped down his throat purged him of all of the ills that had taken place before, wiping memories like hard drives as he focussed on the here. The present. The now. Now was all that mattered.

The lights flickered on and off, the omnipresent rhythm guiding its patterns as they headed towards it. It made him feel alive; he felt an all-encompassing desire to move, to twist, to dance. It was as if he could heal himself through the expression of movement, show himself to be the best, the bravest, the most popular. Hands and arms brushed him from all corners, but he couldn’t feel them. They couldn’t touch him. He was in his own world, and he was untouchable.

Sweat poured as ethanol mixed effortlessly with blood, the perfect fit guiding him to a blissful state of omnipotence. He could conquer the world. He could be anything he wanted. He didn’t need to be told otherwise anymore, he wouldn’t let them. He wouldn’t listen to them, they didn’t know what was best for him. He certainly wouldn’t let them ruin him again. How dare they? He was here to stay.

Hands grabbed at him to follow, his intuition driving him forward through the intermittent darkness. Smiles, shots, dancing. These people understood him. They knew what he was about, what he needed. He wouldn’t be lectured anymore by people who didn’t know the first thing about him. Fuck them. These were his friends now. The laughter, the touching, the kissing. The darkness shrouded their identities comfortably, attraction pulling the strings as it guided them towards eternal bliss.

More dancing, the world spinning happily like a merry-go-round. The lights, the drinks, the smiles, the jokes. Sweat poured down foreheads as shots poured down throats, a sort of alcoholic water cycle emerging. The world made less sense, but made total sense. He accepted the unknown, embraced it with open arms. The world turned, but he turned too, moving and twisting. The darkness began to shroud his thoughts more and more, but it lulled him rather than unsettled him. The touch of skin, the flashes of light. The hands, eager for him to follow. The chapped lips, rubbing lusciously over each other in deep expressions of desire. The small glasses leading the way to happiness. To power. To self-acceptance.

The night continued, the darkness beginning to overpower him. It clouded him, clouded his eyes, his thoughts. He felt the world spin one time too many, throwing him off balance and into confusion. Who was he really? Did anyone really love him? Was he worthy? Did he deserve love? He stopped moving, the weight of his mind bringing him to his knees, the white of the porcelain stained permanently from the outpouring of many a man’s self-loathing. He stared around him, the walls closing in as he knelt, the colours overpowering his senses as his thoughts grew and grew, knocking him off balance and onto the cold hard ground. It cut against his skin with its coldness, burning him as he struggled to regain his composure. He returned to his feet, and headed back towards the darkness, desperate to find what he had lost.

The darkness enveloped him once more, but nothing guided the way. The hands chafed against his arms, the faces contorted with anger and upset. Nothing made sense. Why did nothing make sense? Why couldn’t he make sense? He stumbled, knocking into shoulders and legs, the indignant shouting piercing his ears like hot pins. He stumbled towards the light, the light that moved further and further away with every step, every step becoming more pessimistic, more heartbroken. The lights extinguished themselves callously, sending him into a dizzying sequence of spins, spinning, spinning, spinning. The darkness enveloped them all now, the hands, the people, the rhythm disappearing under a blanket of emptiness.

One hand permeated the darkness, however. Perfectly manicured, soft, soothing. He trusted perfection. Wrapping his fingers around theirs in desperation, he let himself be pulled to somewhere better than his own mind. To someone better than him. 


	2. No Excuses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One big mistake is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the cryptic prologue - hope the element of surprise has kept you in suspense until this chapter! Thanks for the Kudos and the comments, always appreciated...but it does go downhill from here, folks! Hope you enjoy the chapter!

Aaron daren't open his eyes. He knew from the piercing headache that deafened his thoughts that if he did, he would have to deal with the obnoxiously blinding light from outside. Inside, he was at least accustomed to the level of pain he was already receiving from his seemingly bludgeoned head, and chose to keep it that way for the time being. He knew exactly what had happened; only drink could ever bring Aaron into such a dull aching sense of reality. The challenge was actually piecing together the ins and outs of what had taken place, the full extent of which might never be known.

 

Firstly, Aaron focussed in on himself, letting his mind accustom to where he was, aware that the size of his headache betrayed a much harder bender than most. He felt his bare skin against the soft sheets, so he knew he was naked. The good news had been that he had managed to make it to a bed, which must have also meant that he had made it home. That was a good sign. Aaron started to calm himself as he tentatively tried to piece together what had happened the previous night.

 

He had a definite recollection of an argument with Robert, a big one. Aaron couldn't place what they had been arguing about, but he knew it probably would have been something stupid, like Aaron leaving the toilet seat up or Robert spending food money on fancy shampoo. Aaron then vaguely remembered ringing Adam’s phone off the wall, practically begging him to take him on some sort of night out – something that had been almost completely unheard of since Vic’s pregnancy news. After that…there were flashes of downing shots and…women…there were lots of women… Aaron shook himself lightly, glad that he had made it home safely, mentally preparing himself for a mini-grovel to Robert by means of a surprise handjob. He didn't mind, of course; their very active sex life had been well documented in many frank overshares around the table at the Woolpack. Aaron knew, however, that a hangover handjob required an extra special effort that would have to come from the deepest depths of his love. He had better be fucking grateful.

 

“I’m sorry, Robert”, Aaron murmured flatly as he summoned the energy to speak for the first time. “I don't have a fucking clue what we argued about, but I'm sorry”.

 

Silence.

 

“Come on, mate, don't be an arse”, Aaron whined, turning over but not opening his eyes, feeling the sunlight try its utmost to permeate through Aaron’s drooping eyelids. “I’ll make it up to you, turn over”, Aaron pushed the squishy thing next to him. Aaron stopped. He let his hand brush over the object in front of him; it was cold and smooth, but not like skin, rather like fabric. Aaron rolled further across the bed, reaching for skin or for some sign of life. Nothing.

 

Aaron braced himself, knowing he’d have to open his eyes sooner or later. “Robert?” he tried one last time, this time more concerned he had overslept and Robert was still giving him the cold shoulder. Slowly he peeled back his eyes, the light rushing in to attack his senses, overpowering him with whiteness and causing him to groan in another dull ache. Once the light had stopped assaulting him, he began to make out the shapes around him: curtains, a sprawled duvet, his arm, pillows. But no warm skin, no blond bed hair.

 

"Robert?" Aaron began to feel more concerned for himself, wondering how badly he had behaved the night before and what he had done to make Robert leave him in bed. “Come on, I said I’m sorry!”

 

The sheets became clearer, their shade of red sharply scraping along Aaron’s inherent sense of normality. Turning over again, he noticed the lampshade like never before, as if he had never paid that much attention to it. Things felt different, but Aaron wasn’t conscious enough to figure out why. Aaron turned over fully where he was laying, eventually sitting up in the bed. He looked around the room, the things around him along just beginning to stop wobbling for his splitting headache.

 

They didn't have a laminate bedroom floor.

 

Their curtains weren’t white.

 

They didn't have an ensuite.

 

_Fuck!_

Aaron scrambled to sit up, unable to truly believe his surroundings. Maybe he was just dreaming, that it was still actually two in the morning and he was sleeping soundly next to his lover, his face buried snugly in Robert’s smooth chest as he snored peacefully.

 

 

This felt too real. The floor felt real when he put his bare feet on the smooth laminate flooring, almost recoiling as the coldness scratched its long nails down Aaron’s soles.  Aaron felt his heart beat faster but his breathing slow, getting caught in his throat as he struggled to allow himself to accept this as the entire truth. He wouldn't do this. He’d never stray. He had no reason to. He loved Robert. He adored him. He was devoted to him. He was head over heels for him. He couldn't have done this.

 

As he stopped swaying uncontrollably where he sat, he glanced at the paper that was folded unequally next to the bedside table. His heart in his mouth, he slowly put his hand out to pick it up, a quick note scrawled carelessly along it. Aaron struggled to comprehend how the writer could have been so blasé when he felt his world crash around his meaningless transgression. He felt every inch of his scars burn with an arrogant smugness, a smugness filled with the words Aaron had told himself every night before he slept: ‘I told you it was too good to be true’.

 

_Aaron Livesy,_

_Gone to work. Had a great night last night, you are amazing. We should do this again – 07181439100. Love, G._

Fucking G. How dare he? How dare he be so casual about this…this bollocks? This absolute fucking bollocks... Aaron’s breath shook as the truth seeped through his skin into his bloodstream, into his bones, turning them to ice. He felt bile rise unwelcomingly from the back of his throat, the acidic taste making him want to retch in conjunction with his still potent hangover. He started to feel hot and uncomfortable in his skin, the temperature in the room rising and rising as the consequences began to dawn on him. He felt the guilt gnawing away at his neck, Aaron raising his head as if he were drowning in stormy waters. He itched to shed his skin, his body, his actions, his decisions. To return back to the day before, to tell Robert that he loved him instead of arguing with him, to have an early night.

 

Why didn’t he just have an early night? _Fuck._

 

Aaron searched frantically for his underwear in the mess of clothes thrown around the room, sorting through his own clothes as quickly as his flattened brain would allow. He didn’t care that he had missed a couple of the buttons on his flies, or that he had tucked his shirt into the back of his trousers. He needed to leave. To get out of the room. To get out of his head. Out of the life he had managed to completely fuck up without even trying. Again.

 

Not bothering to tie his laces, he grabbed whatever he could recognise as his in the blur of his urgency: his wallet, ten pound notes strewn across the floor; his phone, battered and bruised from the many nights out that had ended up either on the floor or crouching in front of a toilet. He didn’t care if he left anything. He just had to go. He rushed down the steps through the unfamiliar flat, and headed for the door, a sort of tunnel vision guiding him out and through the front door.

 

The air hit him squarely in the face, like a blow to the jaw. He collapsed to his knees as he struggled to compute his options, his breath ragged like a cliff face, precarious and unpredictable in its nature. He had fucked up.

* * *

Why? Why now? Why this? Why would he do something so insulting? He didn’t mean what he had said, whatever that was. He loved him. He wanted Robert so badly. He never wanted to do anything to jeopardise their future.

 

Aaron felt mildly amused at how much he was worrying about the consequences of some meaningless fuck when Robert had systematically developed a whole front for Chrissie when Aaron was nothing more than a quick fuck and a venting cushion. But Aaron couldn’t help it. He felt the shame burn inside his chest, his bones feeling brittle and exposed. He felt his perpetual inferiority freeze his forgiveness, is icy grip out for vengeance, to put right the wrongs of his run of good luck.

 

Aaron had decided to walk from Hotten, anxious to allow as much time as possible between that present moment and his inevitable confrontation. What words could he use to justify such a foolish mistake? Fuck knows, Robert had come up with enough, evading detection from his oblivious wife for long enough. But it didn’t come naturally to Aaron; he didn’t deserve to be hidden, to be protected. He deserved every punishment that came to him.

It wasn’t raining as he walked, the weather remaining resolutely emotionless as he left the town behind him, the creeping greenery paling into a grey insignificance. Usually he would love the undulations of the winding country roads when he drove in his van; today, however, the crests and falls added extra effort that Aaron had to grit his teeth to exert. He was too busy drowning in his own self-hatred to notice, each hill taking minutes more than normal as he shuffled along the grassy bank.

 

He was in no rush. The clouds began to get darker as the light began to fade, the endless ribbon of rubber fading to the distance. He kept walking, failing to notice as his shoes slipped uncomfortably on the muddy bank. He felt suffocated by his idiocy, but the air outside managed just about to keep him from total insanity. The light continued to fade, but eventually he reached the long dip that led into the village, the little flickers of light in the windows of the cottages illuminating his path. He peered closely, leaning in as he put his hand to his mouth. He saw the dark windows of his and Robert’s cottage, ominous in their failure to comply with the pattern around it. Aaron wondered what was going on, whether Robert was even in. Inhaling sharply, he walked down the slope to accept his punishment.

* * *

 

Aaron looked out at their cottage from the other side of the road, the settled snow starting to melt on their brittle and clumpy lawn. He squinted in slight pain, the wind getting its long fingers underneath the insides of his eyelids as he sought desperately to clear his mind, gain some composure. Slowly, he began to move. It took all the strength in his tired muscles to drag himself towards the big wooden front door, foreboding in its stature. He willed the door to back away as he moved forward towards it, but instead it grew and grew, filled his eyes with the enormous burden it was placing upon Aaron’s every waking thought. He approached it. He forced himself to make his wrist limp, letting it bang gently against the door, closing his eyes tight as he cowered away from the consequences of his actions.

 

“Aaron!” Aaron was ambushed by the onslaught of flesh and bone hurling itself towards him like a rocket, almost knocking him to the ground as he opened his eyes. Robert was kissing him tenderly, holding him in his arms, gasping for breath. He pulled back, and Aaron could see the dark rings around his eyes, his normally perfectly groomed hair splayed in all directions, betraying his sleepless night. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean what I said, I love you so much, I don’t want you to go, please don’t leave me”.

 

Aaron almost wanted to scoff had the circumstances been less damning; he had seen this before, when Robert was begging Chrissie to give him chance after chance, forever relegating Aaron to second place. Now, Aaron wasn’t sure whether to take this is a compliment or not; Robert was holding his hands loosely, desperation clinging to his bloodshot eyes like a scared child. But was this truly out of love for Aaron, or out of fear of loneliness? Aaron tried to shake himself of such cynicism, feeling sick to his stomach with his own misdemeanours.

 

“Aaron?” Robert bit his lip, waiting for any sign of a reaction from Aaron, but got none. Aaron was too absorbed in his own remorse, his own disgust. He gave himself many opportunities to flee, or to just bury what had happened and accept Robert’s apology. But there was never a doubt in Aaron’s mind that he would come clean. Time and time again had he lived with the consequences of lying through omission, the way it itched uncomfortably at his skin like a scab, reappearing every time he picked away at it. The consequences of telling him made him feel queasy in the whole uncertainty and guilt of it all, but the consequences of not telling him drove him almost to a suicidal level of self-loathing. He had to face up to his wrongdoing.

 

“Can we go inside?” Aaron murmured, just audible enough for Robert to nod, wide-eyed, and allow Aaron entrance into their home. “I need to tell you something…”

 

“Please, I couldn’t take it if you left, I love you too much for you to leave my life, I’ll stop pushing you away, I’ll stop spending too much, I’ll think about other people, I swear –“

 

“Robert, shut up and just listen to me”, Aaron flashed a deathly glare from across the room before quickly returning his gaze to the lumpy carpet under their feet. “Something…something’s happened”.

 

“You…you’re not ill, are you?” Robert whispered, squinting his eye slightly as he leant forward.

 

“No”, Aaron growled. “Something…shit…basically…I’ve…I’ve fucked up”.

 

“Fucked up how…?” Robert asked cautiously.

 

“Last night…fuck…I don’t even remember much of it…I was so pissed…angry and drunk…I…things must have happened…

“Like what?” Robert questioned, this time terser in his delivery, almost as if he knew what Aaron was about to say. Aaron looked up, somehow finding the courage to acknowledge his mistakes head on, looking straight into Robert’s cloudy expression. Robert had tensed in his posture, his neck and back straighter, the faint lines that cut like those of dough into his forehead crumpled together.

 

“I think…I think I must have…I think I must have slept with someone else last night…” Aaron spat out, his hand to his temple as he berated his very being, leaving no even slightly scandalous action unturned as he gave himself both barrels. “I woke up in a different bedroom this morning, they left a note…I’m…I’m so sorry, Robert…”

  
Robert said nothing, just continued his glassy expression from the kitchen worktop. Aaron could see his fingers fidgeting, grasping at the laminate wood finish as though he was gripping for dear life, the ground opening around him as he clenched onto dry land.

 

“I don’t remember a thing…” Aaron continued. “I don’t remember the night…I don’t remember sex…I don’t remember going anywhere…I had had so fucking much to drink…I must have done…that’s not an excuse, I know. It’s completely my fault for doing it, I’m not trying to get out of it…but…it meant nothing”.

 

“You must have needed it”, Robert croaked suddenly, causing Aaron’s heart to leap into his larynx, keeping him silent until he could swallow the lump in his throat once more. “You wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t need it”.

 

“But I didn’t need it, I don’t even remember it…” Aaron rubbed his eyes, anguish rather than tears causing them to sting. “You have no idea how much I wish I had stayed home and told you how much I love you, how much of a fucking shit I give about your scrawny, entitled arse…”

 

“I don’t think you’re in a position to start on me”, Robert curled his lip slightly, his voice flat with Aaron’s betrayal.

 

“I know”.

 

“I…” Robert let out a humourless laugh. “I knew I’d upset you…I didn’t realise you’d disrespect me that much…”

 

“Disrespect?!” Aaron barked before he could filter the notion from his frayed mind. “So you were just innocently exploring options when you were fucking me on the side of your failed marriage?”

 

Robert didn’t reply. Instead, he turned to the sofa and sat on its lumpy cushions, cupping his hands and putting them around his nose and mouth as he sighed, breath ragged in his confusion. Finally, after an eternal gulf had stretched between them across the welcome rug, Robert mumbled, “I guess I don’t really have any claim to any sanctimonious rant about fidelity…and you know that it went from fucking to love making very quickly! But…y’know…I never would have thought that you’d do this to me…you’re too perfect…”

 

“I don’t have any excuses, Robert”, Aaron replied dully. “I’m…I’m so ashamed…I swore I’d never do this…never be the one who did the hurting…I don’t get how I managed to fuck up so badly…”

 

“I can’t pretend that this is going to be easy for me, Aaron”, Robert sucked the inside of his cheek in thought. “Even if that makes me a massive hypocrite”.

 

“I know”.

 

“But if hearing nothing from you over the past twenty four hours has taught me anything…it’s that the prospect of being without you at all is much more unbearable than being with someone who made a stupid mistake…” Robert flashed an uncertain grimace, if not a smile, Aaron feeling a little more secure in himself as he realised he was going to give him another chance. He felt delirious warmth begin to seep through him once more, relief enveloping him like an avalanche, almost shivering as the tension disappeared.

 

Aaron walked slowly over to where Robert was sitting on the settee, Robert not flinching when he pressed his fingers lightly to the stubs of Robert’s own. Suddenly, Robert turned and encompassed as much of Aaron as he could inside his thin, stick-like embrace. They said nothing, Aaron extremely grateful of his second chance, knowing that he had been a ticking time bomb waiting to happen.

 

They were alright. At the moment.                                                                                           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Aaron... one wonders how it's going to get much worse... ;) Luckily for me, there are lots of ways it could get much worse <3 Please do give kudos and comments, it's nice to know where I'm doing well and what could be improved! Thanks for reading, see you next time! :)


	3. Seasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year is a long time in a love story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your positive reviews! I love that everyone seems to have different ideas about what's been going on, and that's made me more confident that this story is a little unpredictable already! :P I hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

Aaron had been sorely mistaken to think that he might have gotten off lightly. The first months that had followed his ‘incident’ had been tinged with an odd background aura of distance, as if Robert could never quite get over the fact that Aaron had willed himself upon on another man instead of himself. They never spoke about it, of course, but the unspoken had always held so much more potency in the context of their relationship: lustfully silent nights fucking on the backseats of cars; terrified stares shared down the barrel of a gun; tired, hurt expressions from across the pub. But this was different, had a different edge to it. Perhaps it was because it was the first time Robert had any reason to feel distrustful of Aaron, and finally had found out what it felt like to be the one being hurt rather than doing the hurting. Aaron felt as though he and Robert were on opposite sides of some emotional recreation of the Berlin Wall, the wall full of the unsaid and the unacknowledged, preventing them from being emotionally whole once more.

The most marked expression of this barrier had arisen in their sex life. With one quick flash of foolish selfishness, they had gone from one of the most experimentally active couples in the village to complete prudishness. Sometimes Aaron laid awake at night wondering whether Edna got it more than he did. On some nights, they did get down to something vaguely resembling sex, but it felt forced, and never actually enjoyable. It made Aaron cringe at Robert’s efforts; Aaron had left Robert completely to decide when he wanted to resume their sex life, but it felt like he was blinded by Aaron’s infidelity, flickering before his eyes constantly like an infinitely spinning zoetrope. It had left their relationship stale and unemotional, but neither of them wanted to give up on something they had spent months fighting, concealing, killing for.

Aaron never questioned once that Robert still absolutely adored him, nor his own feelings for Robert. There would be times on a Sunday when they would be sat in silence in the living room, Aaron listening to music on his phone and Robert surrounded by Sunday newspaper supplements, and Aaron would open his eyes ever so slightly so that he could see Robert peering at him from above the top of his curling broadsheet, adoration and hurt blending so tragically together. The sides of Aaron’s mouth would curl in recognition, desperate to feel warmth permeate the tightly cemented wall that Robert had constructed around himself.

Chas and Paddy had certainly noticed a drop in Aaron’s mood, despite the tension already having been high in the days preceding the ‘incident’. Free pints and cosy chats had not gone unnoticed by Aaron, who had felt the beginnings of another intervention brewing. No, he hadn’t been feeling depressed again. No, he hadn’t started cutting again. No, he didn’t need a holiday. Coping with Diane’s scorn had been a new experience, however. Robert had promised that it would remain their own little secret, but perceptive Diane had noticed something had gone awry as soon as the cosy double visits to the Woolpack’s living quarters had dried up and the sickeningly endearing public affection had withered like the snowdrops that were dying along the grassy banks of the village.

Some nights, Robert would go to sleep on the lumpy settee once he thought that Aaron was asleep, for reasons that Aaron could not fathom. But very rarely was Aaron actually asleep, merely curling up with his eyes firmly closed, begging for the carpet of darkness to overwhelm him. The darkness had eluded him, however, the Land of Nod evidently having cancelled his visa as he tossed and turned uncomfortably in the double bed he and Robert were supposed to share. He would hear the door shut softly as Robert headed down the rickety staircase, and Aaron would feel a wave of coldness dissolve his skin, making the hair on his arms stand on end, aware of his loneliness.

Some hollow positives had arisen from the ‘incident’. Robert had reined in his out of control spending, their joint income now enough to get through the months with a little comfort room. Had they been on better terms, Aaron might have suggested that they go away for a bit, give themselves a well-deserved break, just those two. On the other hand, Aaron had almost come to fear moments which they spent alone, let alone a whole weekend or week. They did, naturally, spend times alone together, but Aaron felt as though he had to break those moments up with pints in the pub with Adam and account books spread around him haphazardly on the desk at the mobile office. If they spent more than a few hours in each other’s company, Aaron was terrified that words would escape them and they’d lose each other for good.

Aaron was so cold.

* * *

 

The daffodils bloomed and wilted as spring made its mark on the village. Spring was always important for village life; crops began to rear their glorious heads once more, the animal mothers providing new life for the farms that clung to the green cascade of earth that encircled Emmerdale. As ever, Moira was eager for as many hands as possible on deck as her farm leapt back into action. Aaron was more than happy to oblige, allowing him another welcome distraction to his failing relationship as their troubles continued.

Two hours were now added onto Aaron’s mornings, often leaving Robert still sleeping in their bed or on the sofa as Aaron carefully closed their heavy front door. Thin streaks of purple broke up the night sky, the sun impatient to stamp its dominance on the early hours of Tuesday morning. The innocent birdsong from the blossoming trees accompanied his walk to Butler’s Farm, but Aaron did not find it charming nor welcome, the high pitched whistling piercing his fragile head after another sleepless night.

Moira had tried to make some conversation upon Aaron’s arrival, but quickly realising from his grunting replies that a cosy chat was not on offer, she gave him the list of jobs that needed doing before they set Aaron on his way. He was working alone this morning, with Adam still in Glasgow on his trip to meet some new clients. Not that Aaron minded, it meant one less person to have inane conversation with, but it meant he had to put in more effort to things done before leaving to open up the scrapyard. He worked in silence, the trundling of the quad bike overriding his natural anxiety as he went from job to job. The sun finally threw back night’s thick duvet and had heralded a very mild morning, prompting Aaron to put his hood down to stop his head from sweating too much. He noticed for the first time his hunger, having forgotten to have breakfast in his haste to leave the cottage and to pick up the crisps he had left on the side for lunch.

His stomach growled louder than the sheepdogs in the fields as he left, Moira not in to offer him some breakfast as he left for the scrapyard. He cursed his tendency to bury his head in the sand and avoid all confrontation that wouldn’t lead to someone potentially having a broken nose, leading to his forgetfulness and his predisposition to cut corners. Hell, Butler’s Farm was probably on fire as he thought to himself, blissfully unaware of the wanton destruction that seemed to stalk him when he least expected it. Sucking his breath sharply back inside his dry throat, he turned the corner in the road, the cold portacabin loitering on the corner of the scrapyard. Aaron could almost taste unsmoked bacon on his tongue, wrapped gorgeously in a buttered teacake (or ‘bread roll’ as Robert insisted on calling it), oozing cholesterol and red and brown sauce.

As he approached the entrance to the yard, he saw a figure sat down by the steps to the portacabin, loitering aimlessly in the awakening dawn sunshine. Aaron picked up the pace, absolutely not in the mood for bastard fifteen year old twats on their Easter holidays with nowt better to do than pass around a bottle of White Lightning and smoke weed outside people’s front doors (conveniently forgetting his own adolescent experimentations…). As he approached, he could see that it was actually someone older, someone with perfectly prim blond hair, and the first lopsided half-smile Aaron had seen in fuck knows how long…

“What you doing ‘ere?” Aaron mumbled, trying his hardest to make himself sound banterous and matey, but probably coming off as standoffish and cool, as per. “You were spark out when I left at six”.

“Yeah, well I sorted myself out”, Robert pouted, lifting one of the two white paper bags in his grasp for Aaron to take, his expression shy. “Noticed you didn’t have breakfast this morning, you normally leave a plate full of crumbs for me to wash up. Can’t have you scrapping on an empty stomach”.

Aaron peered inside the white paper bag as he took it from Robert’s hand, a certain old spark recaptured momentarily as their fingers brushed upon the handover. He smiled as he saw the bag’s contents: a bacon butty, coated luxuriantly in sauces, just how he liked them. “Thanks”, Aaron ducked his chin into his neck but looked up at Robert, shy but grateful at Robert’s thoughtfulness. “You know me well”.

“Yeah”, Robert blinked and looked down. “Say…you don’t wanna clock off early today, go to town and do sommat different?”

“Like what?” Aaron asked, careful to pitch his tone in the major key of interest rather than the minor key of indifference.

“I dunno, we’ll go to the cinema or something”, Robert shrugged. “We definitely don’t get out enough anymore”.

“…yeah, alright”, Aaron pouted. “Thanks for the sarnie”.

Robert smiled, half to himself, Aaron hurt that Robert still struggled to look in his direction, and his blond boyfriend left the yard, putting a hand to Aaron in farewell.

* * *

 

Summer couldn’t have come sooner enough. The cautious mini-dates that Robert had set up over the spring had started to gain momentum, and soon the emotional wall between them was being dismantled, brick by brick. By the end of April, they were holding hands; by the end of May, they had actually had sex. Not lazy handjobs, or a shitty blow. Actual sex. In-and-out. Actual groaning. Actual love. It almost had a pornographic sheen to it, as though the amazing sex they had been having weren’t an accurate representation of how sex in a healthy relationship should be, and in fact the meaningless and emotionless fucking they had been unsuccessfully doing since Aaron’s indiscretion was the norm. Aaron didn’t mind, however; he just laid in bed afterwards, coming down from his orgasmic high and gasping for a fag.

They had begun to tell each other that they loved each other once more, that they were grateful for each other’s presence in their lives, that it was worth all the shit. However, Aaron could not shake the feeling that the elephant in the room had not been issued its marching orders. Despite how Robert would stroke Aaron’s thin hair after they had made love in the tangle of Egyptian cotton sheets on their rickety bedframe, telling him that he loved him, Aaron still felt Robert hold something back, a shred of emotion which made the very difference between functional and dysfunctional.

The issue had finally came to a head as a storm blew in from over the Dales, the air metallic in its foreboding warning of adverse weather. They had gone for a walk through the fields, the air suffocating as Aaron reluctantly took his hoodie off, modestly betraying his not insignificant arms that glistened in the half-light of the covered sun.

Robert smirked in his own slightly irritating way, brushing Aaron’s arms with the knuckles of his long, spindly fingers, Aaron feeling hot under Robert’s touch.  “Should we…y’know…?” Robert winked and pointed to the ground, Aaron feeling another hot flush coming in his midriff.

“It’s gonna piss down”, Aaron pointed out unconvincingly, thunder grumbling ominously from across the valleys. “Look, we ought to get out of the fields before we get fucking struck by lightning”.

“Nah, it doesn’t normally take much for you to down on it with me”, Robert smirked again, the arrogance running like water off of Aaron’s back.

“It does nowadays”, Aaron puffed out his cheeks. “Gone are the days of fucking on hay bales, I need something soft underneath for m’ back – I’m selective nowadays”.

“Except when you have a massive argument and drink a fuckton of vodka”, Robert blurted out carelessly, the air crackling further as Robert realised what he had just said. Aaron felt a burn of shame upon him that he hadn’t felt since the spring, but was just as familiar and debilitative as always.

“Woah…where did that come from?” Aaron murmured, the banterous nature of their exchange melting in a flash.

“I…I don’t know”, Robert admitted, putting his hand to his mouth as he paced around where they were standing. “Let’s just go home…”

“No”, Aaron replied firmly, staying still on the dusty mud path. “We’re gonna have it out, right here, right now”.

“Aaron...”

“Don’t Aaron me, just say what you’re thinking. We haven’t had it out since it happened, so let’s get it over and done with now”. For once, Aaron commended himself on his ability to push forward an issue instead of letting it take a backseat.

Robert bit his lip in thought, and then slowly walked up to Aaron. “You wanna know what I really think? What’s really going through my mind about you and the incident? Because I’ll tell you how difficult it’s been to move on from this…this…fucking incident… I couldn’t look you in the eye for the first month! I felt like touching you was no longer something I had the privilege to do anymore, I couldn’t…and don’t get me started about sex…someone else had had you, you gave yourself up for someone else when you only had to come home and I would be there for you…I was waiting for you to come home…and you never did. You just came the next day and told me that someone else was better than me that night…someone else was more attractive, more sexy…I wasn’t enough…” Aaron opened his mouth to interrupt but closed it again when Robert glared at him. “Ever since Chrissie left me, I’ve only ever wanted to prove to you that I am enough for you, that you are more than enough for me…and I never strayed, I never got into bed with anyone other than you…I love you so fucking much…I thought I’d proved myself to you, that we could enter a permanent state of domestic bliss for the rest of our lives…that…that…that…” Robert had run out of puff and tears were gathering and spilling over to the bridge of his nose, and Aaron wanted to move forward and console him. The glare that he received when he started put him back in his place.

“Robert…has this still been on your mind since we started getting on again?” Aaron started to feel rain on his nose as the dark clouds surrounded them on the hillside. Robert looked at Aaron and nodded glumly. “Oh…Robert…you dunno how much I regret going out that night…it’s fucked us up for fucking ages…and we should have talked better about what was going on with us rather than just arguing….but I know I created the whole shitty situation. I just don’t know what else I can do to make you believe that I am absolutely yours, and that’s not going to change…”

“I know”, Robert croaked, the rain starting to lash harder now, his blond hair slicked back untidily. “I want things to change…I don’t want all this baggage anymore…I just want to go back to how we are. I feel better for telling you all of that shit I was bottling up for so long, to be honest. I just want to hold you in my arms and remember that it’s just the two of us, not us and _him_ ”.

“It was never us and him”, Aaron grimaced. “Just Robert and Aaron, you and me. So…do you…do you reckon we can put this behind us? Because if we can’t, we have some serious shit right there…”

“Yeah”, Robert sniffed. “I think so. I know so. Like I said…a life without you is so much worse than living with you when you had just made a stupid mistake”.

“So…” Aaron put his hands in his pockets. “Friends?”

“Yeah….” Robert smiled, but then the smile disappeared as he thought momentarily. “No…actually…no, not friends…”

“Robert…?” Aaron started to feel a cold dread wash over him again like a flash flood, the grimy water working its way up his nose and mouth and ears.

“I don’t want us to be just friends anymore, just boyfriends…” Robert inhaled through his cupped hands as he turned away from Aaron for a moment, lightning piercing their vision momentarily as it scythed its way across the black clouds above.

“What do you mean?” Aaron asked, genuinely confused, shouting over the splattering rain punching the muddy ground around their feet.

“I mean I want to make us forever…we don’t talk about forever…but I want to give us that chance”, Robert turned back to an abashed Aaron and took his wet hands. “Be my husband, Aaron. Be my Mr Livesy. Marry me”.

“Marry you?” Aaron repeated, not incredulously. He had never thought that opening up would have led to this…but Aaron certainly loved Robert enough…and it would give Robert the confidence he needed to finally put his understandable obstacles to rest. And secretly Aaron would sometimes lay next to Robert in bed at three in the morning and dream of scenarios where Aaron would be reluctantly dragged to social functions and Robert would stand with him and a group of people who had solved world hunger or something and Robert would say, “Oh, this is my husband, Aaron”, and Aaron would feel like the luckiest man in the world.

“Yeah…” Robert’s voice dropped off slightly, as if expecting Aaron to reject him. “This wouldn’t be like with Chrissie…this isn’t because I want to get a leg up in everyone’s opinions…this is because I want to build my life with you forever…because I’ll love you forever…”

“Yes”, Aaron interrupted finally, his veins on fire with relief and love as he dragged Robert closer to him and kissed him, the rain paling into insignificance as they cemented their future together, Robert feeling totally relaxed in his arms as they kissed further into each other, almost melting into one single entity. They finally pulled away once Robert had run out of breath, and they smiled tightly at each other. Finally crossing the threshold of comfortable wetness, they ran hand in hand down the muddy track, Aaron more certain than ever of what he wanted, and what he had learnt from his past mistakes.

* * *

 

Autumn had arrived early that year, but Aaron had barely enough time to notice as company expansions and wedding preparations plagued his existence from dusk til dawn. Aaron was in favour of just eloping down Hotten Registry Office and going on a weekend honeymoon to Southport, but he allowed Robert to indulge himself on his preference for some extravagance, and soon Aaron was nodding absent-mindedly at wedding venues and different menus for the caterers. Meanwhile, things were also taking off at the scrapyard, Adam clinching their first business deal abroad (if you could call Cork abroad – all he knew was that it was a fucking arse to get to across the Irish Sea). Whilst that came with its own advantages (more money, better reputation, bigger network), the sea of paperwork became unbearable, the tightrope of tax and expenses bogging Aaron down well into the evening.

It had become equally as exhausting listening to everyone else’s gushing congratulations and expectant invitation to their ‘special day’. Somehow he had gone from misunderstood bad boy to their village darling in about a year, and everyone wanted a slice of the action. Even Edna passed on some form of goodwill, even if she did write a couple of slightly patronising Bible passages in her congratulations card. Chas had been horrified for a little while, but had soon learnt that acquiescence was the only way into Aaron’s life, and the forced smiles eventually became less forced as she spent more time learning how truly happy Aaron felt. Paddy, as always, supported him fully, although Aaron had definitely felt a slightly apprehension in his demeanour, as if Paddy could never quite look past the man who had almost condemned him to death by grain. Aaron didn’t really blame him, but he wondered how life would be after the wedding, when Robert becomes forever ingrained in Aaron’s daily life, and thus his family’s by extension.

Aaron woke up alone in the large double bed, the rickety bedframe upgraded for something a little sturdier in July. He turned over in his side of the bed onto Robert’s, the pillow still smelling of his shampoo from a couple of nights ago. Robert had gone on a business trip to Milton Keynes, the least conducive place for an affair imaginable, so Aaron could sleep peacefully knowing that their monogamy was intact for another day. Aaron was joking, of course; since their stormy outburst in June, Robert had really gone above and beyond to make sure that Aaron could see him as the perfect fiancé. He didn’t need to – Aaron had been convinced the moment he had kissed his forgiveness directly onto Robert’s lips after Robert’s nervous breakdown a couple of winters prior. Aaron smiled again to himself, reminding himself that Robert would be home late that night.

Having a quicker shower than usual due to his solitude, he made an exceptionally good cup of tea and a wholesome bacon butty before heading off to the scrapyard, whose phones had been ringing off the wall since the Irish deal had gone through. Prospective suppliers had started popping up in Galway, Londonderry, Armagh. It had started to get to the point where international call costs felt like an issue, but Aaron and Adam knew that the huge increase of custom from Ireland was only a good thing for their business. Indeed, it seemed that they might have to hire some people to cover all of the business that had been pouring in recently.

Today was one of those rare wonderful days when both of them would be in the office all day, giving them the opportunity to catch up in the only way the two lads knew how – by pissing about the office all day, daring each other to do annoying shit when a quiet moment emerged, giggling like schoolchildren every time they managed to lure Vic out of the Woolpack kitchen or with baby Chloe for no good reason whatsoever. It reminded Aaron that he was still regularly young, only a spritely twenty-five years to his name, and he could afford a little immaturity when the walls of adulthood were closing ominously around him. They spent the rest of the day, in between being serious to Mr O’Donohue from Galway and Miss Doughty from Cork, spinning idly around on their fancy new leather office seats and spilling red sauce down their chins as they munched on the lunch, a pair of greasy cheeseburgers from the takeaway down the road.

Adam accompanied Aaron to the pub that evening, although made a reluctant point that he could only stay for one as Victoria was going to meet some old school mates and Adam had promised to look after Chloe in her absence. Their conversation was light, their demeanour airy as they chortled and sniggered their way through two naughty pints and two packets of pork scratchings. Eventually, all good things had to come to an end, and Adam was almost dragged by his ear back to the marital home by Vic, his face sheepishly apologetic as she grumbled something about responsibility.

The pub began to empty very slightly as time moved comfortably past eight o’clock, Chas deciding to take her break and saunter up to her son’s table in the corner of the pub.

“Alright, smiler?” she teased, flicking him lightly with the Dales tea towel in her hand. She must have noticed Aaron’s uncharacteristically public good mood that evening.

Aaron just scrunched his nose, not giving her the satisfaction of an answer and instead gave her an acknowledging glance.

“Knew it was too good to be true”, Chas rolled her eyes. “How’s wedding planning going? I haven’t received my invitation yet…presuming I’m actually getting one, you know, your only mother, your one and only?”

“We’ve not got a date yet”, Aaron explained as he gulped down another mouthful of his pint, promising himself that he would go home after this one to sort out the piles of shit in the cottage before Robert’s return. “He wants a spring ceremony, though”.

“And you?” Chas pushed, knowing that Aaron didn’t actually care that much, and only really cared about the vows, signing the papers, and getting the title of Robert Sudgen’s husband.

“Yeah, spring sounds fine”, Aaron murmured nonchalantly. “He wants this big lavish affair, but it’s not entirely like we have that many friends…”

“Well, you’ll have us unruly Dingles, he’ll have Diane and Vic and Adam, and you do have friends in the village”, Chas looked away from Aaron slightly, Aaron clocking her slight discomfort at the meaningless white lie she was spinning. “Anyway, it’ll be lovely, and you’ll be happy”.

“I know”, Aaron gave a half-smile as he down the rest of the glass. “Right, I best be off, need to tidy up before Kim Woodburn gets back…”

“Alright, love, go careful, yeah?” Chas’s words tumbled subconsciously from her mouth, Aaron aware that it had almost become a vocal tick of hers that had carried her through years of Aaron’s highs and lows.

“Yeah, you too”, Aaron nodded as he gave his mother a quick hug before setting out the door and out through the crisp November air, the night well and truly ruling the roost as he walked down the High Street and up the garden path, putting the key into the lock and pushing hard against the heavy door.

 _Right, what shit do I have to sort out first…?_ Aaron rubbed his chin as he tried to remember what he had still left to do. One foot on the wooden staircase, there was a knock at the door. _Fuck,_ he swore as he walked over, annoyed that he hadn’t gotten his arse in gear more quickly before Robert got home. Wondering casually why Robert hadn’t used his keys to get in the cottage, Aaron lifted the heavy door back. Nothing. No one. No one was at the door. _Fucking kids_. _Swear we weren’t such wankers when I was a young wanker_. He went to close the door, but as he did, a piercing cry cut through him like a laser, rattling him slightly as he struggled to make out the source of the noise. Feeling vulnerable, he clenched his fists, ready to go outside and tackle it head on. He breathed in, and, without thinking about it too much, he left for the garden path.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's that. Hope that's not too agonising a cliffhanger for you - they're going to get worse, I can assure you. Please do comment and give Kudos if you'd like, I love hearing your views about where the story is going and what's going to happen! Thanks, and until next time! :)


	4. Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron's past catches up with him once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I think I ought to clear up a couple of things: I'm not writing angst for the sake of it, it definitely serves a purpose to the story. For this reason, I'm not going to throw them into the pits of despair and not get them out again, so yeah, this story will end on a better note than it started on, I'll say that! :P Also, I think a few of you in the comments have clocked what's about to happen, but it'll be interesting to see if your predictions were correct! Enjoy the chapter!

Aaron faced the dark head on, expecting to be ambushed by someone hiding around the corner with a duffel bag. What he was not expecting was tripping straight over something sizeable in the path in front of him, sending him flying and causing another great scream to shear its way through the night air. He picked himself up, grazes skipping liberally down his hands and legs from falling on the stone garden path. Looking around for the source of the constant crying, he began to recognise the sound from his godfather duties with Leo. Picking himself up, he flashed his phone torch around the direction of the door, the lights in the house not yet on. Sure enough, he could see a basket shaped object on the doorstep, with a hood around one end for protection.

Aaron approached the basket slowly, his breath thin as the cries continued to blare out from the basket. That’s when he saw it – or, rather, him. A tiny scrap screaming his heart out, wrapped snugly in white blankets and another roughly folded note placed roughly at the side of the basket. Aaron did nothing, his emotions and thoughts doing enough to exhaust his energy to act externally from his damaged mind. There must be a mistake. They must have the wrong house. Why would someone dump a random baby on their doorstep? Some drunk desperate mother looking for any home for her baby, it had to be. This was nothing to do with Aaron.

The cries couldn’t pierce Aaron’s deafening internal monologue, but eventually Aaron began to feel the cold flick uncomfortably against his bare skin, and realised that the baby must be having it much worse in the basket. Finding the strength from somewhere not previously tapped, he picked up the Moses basket and walked into the kitchen, placing the basket on the kitchen table. Catching the note out of the corner of his eye, he extended a shaky hand out to pick it up. He deftly dodged touching the baby, as if touching him would make him Aaron’s responsibility forevermore. Opening the roughly written note, his heart stopped once more at the familiarity of the blasé handwriting:

_Aaron Livesy,_

_He’s yours. His name is Harry. He’s not been registered. Born 8.11.2017. Take good care of him._

Blood evaporated from Aaron’s fingertips. He felt it drip through the prints of his stubby fingers and pour invisibly into the air, its ferric quality weighing the air down like an anvil. He felt the atmosphere become denser as it got heavier and heavier, and Aaron shrunk down towards the ground, his body crumpling like a crisp packet to a flame. He fell to the floor, sliding his back down the side of the kitchen table and almost knocking himself out on the table corner. His bottom hit the floor with a thud.

Suddenly the air escaped from his lungs, and he felt his throat closing in on him in delirious agony. His hand clasped desperately at the tiled kitchen floor, scrabbling around for grip in the grout in the flooring as he felt his head spinning. He caught one large gulp of air, and all of a sudden he felt his eyes explode with the force of his frantic guilt, tears pouring from his burst ducts. Thoughts no longer made sense anymore, and a rush of energy made him convulse, coughing and spluttering some vomit to the side of him on the floor. The baby’s wails became white noise as Aaron put his hands to his face, failing to stop the torrent of tears from forming small puddles around his feet.

Goodness knows how long had passed. Harry was still crying, Aaron had cried himself out. Now he was simply shivering in his hoodie and his jogging bottoms, blocking out any sort of emotion or sensation, apart from one low growl echoing around his head. Who could he tell? Who could he confide in? Who wouldn’t judge him? He had no one. This was it for him and Robert, he was sure. It would be a permanent reminder of Aaron’s mistake, something that Robert would never be able to overlook. His mother and Paddy would judge him for being so careless…they didn’t even know he had cheated in the first place. Diane would be on full-on war mode, the rest of the villagers ganging up behind with pitchforks and judgmental remarks. Normally it would roll off of his back…but tonight, at the very end of his mental capacity, it merely provided a chorus soundtrack to his own self-loathing solo.

How could he look after a kid when he couldn’t look after himself?

How could he love a kid when he couldn’t bear to live with himself?

How could he explain it?

How could he live with the terrible mistake he had made?

What had he done?

Aaron’s head snapped to the unfeeling clock ticking on the kitchen wall – twenty to nine. Robert would be due home in twenty minutes. Aaron felt a sudden surge of energy, getting up quickly from his patch on the floor, slightly queasy from the launch upwards. His intuition taking over, he ran up the narrow, raggedly carpeted staircase to their bedroom. He found the nearest overnight bag and tore the zip open, flinging open their wardrobe and tearing hoodies and shirts off of clothes hangers and throwing them messily into the overnight bag. No time for folding, he put his toiletries and his electricals into the bag and ran back down the stairs, almost slipping halfway up the steps in his haste.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he picked up the Moses basket by the handle and marched over to the front door. Taking one tragic glance back at the chaos he was leaving behind, he took one deep breath and opened the door, the chilly wind bracing as he closed the door and posted the keys through the letterbox. Refusing to cry anymore, he let his heart take over again, and walked blindly through the village until he knocked on another door, shaking with agonising confusion as he waited for the answer.

The door swung open.

“Love? Love?!” Chas’s jaw dropped as she came upon the scene in front of her. Tears could not have been held back any longer, and they began to sting Aaron’s cheeks once more as he tried to form the only words that came to his head.

“I’ve fucked up, Mum”.

* * *

 

_“Let me guess? Robert?” Chas asked drily as Aaron stomped up the stairs into the Woolpack’s living room._

_Aaron just shrugged, not particularly wanting to have to sit through another half an hour of his mother telling him that he was settling for second best once again._

_“Come on, all of these signs have to show you that he’s too much trouble, even if he hasn’t been philandering!” Chas was pacing impatiently around the living room now, waiting for Aaron to crack in front of her eyes. Aaron didn’t plan on it, instead remaining resolutely tight lipped as he watch his mother burn a hole in the living room carpet. “If you were made for each other, things would have worked themselves out by now!”_

_“That’s not true”, Aaron screwed his nose up at such a thought. Everyone had teething problems after a while together, especially living with one another. “He just has to learn not to spend a pile of cash as soon as he makes it”._

_“I would help you out but I know it’d only fund his fancy hand soap”, Chas rolled her eyes._

_“I don’t need your help!” Aaron grumbled. “I didn’t even want this conversation!”_

_“Come on, I can’t go on much longer watching you implode whilst Robert milks the Livesy cash cow!” Chas had started to raise her voice now, her hawkish squawk almost making the china shake in the cupboard of good crockery._

_“I can look after myself, Mum!” Aaron growled as he got to his feet. “Why do you constantly think I’m that fragile eighteen year old still angry about being gay?”_

_“Because I can see it in your eyes!” Chas replied, almost wailing in exasperation. “I can see it in the lines on your face that you’re hurting inside! I’m your mother, I’m put on this bloody earth to make sure you don’t get hurt!”_

_“No, you’ve put on this earth to fucking harass me all the fucking time making me feel like all my fucking decisions are wrong!” Aaron’s voice shook as the silence rang out between them, Chas shocked at such a profane outburst, in spite of Aaron’s known temper. Aaron threw his hood over his head and stormed out of the room, frightening a bemused Diane as he pushed past her on the stairs._

_How dare she? The nosy cow…she knew nothing about him and Robert.  Fuck her._

* * *

 

 

“Shhhh, shhhh, come on now”, Chas rocked Harry slowly but urgently in her arms as she tried to get him off to sleep, the maternal side that Aaron could never truly remember shining through in those painful moments of reflection. This was real. This wasn’t going away. He had done something irreversibly dreadful and it was all his fault. His chance at real happiness ruined, Robert would never understand. He would take one look at him and curl his lip in disgust, that trademark glare and cocky smile that had characterised so much of their affair out on full display for Aaron’s viewing pain. Why he had come to see his mother he did not know – Aaron was convinced that she’d be incredibly disappointed in him and ask him to leave the village. He might as well, he couldn’t live with seeing Robert all the time.

After five minutes, Harry was finally drifting off, snuggling up to the small stuffed rabbit that occupied the corner of his basket. Chas backed away slowly and took a large sip of her glass of wine before sitting down next to Aaron, who was still shaking from the tears.

“Well…I hadn’t seen this one coming…” Chas started, trying in vain to lighten the mood. Aaron just focussed on the ground to stop the tears from falling again, and said nothing. “Sorry. Oh, Aaron…” she took him in her arms and he clung on for dear life, needing his mother now more than ever.

“What have I done, Mum?” he whispered painfully as he gripped onto her shoulders. “How could I have been so stupid and thoughtless and fucking shit all the damn time?”

“Ey, ey, you’re not, you’re a brilliant young lad with a heart of gold…” Chas trailed as she turned her head to the sleeping tot in the Moses basket. “But you’ll have to enlighten me on how that little one came about, because things aren’t adding up”.

“Do…do…do you remember when me and Robert had those really big rows around New Year time, and I got off my face with Adam?” Aaron sniffed, his mouth tasting of mucus and despair.

“Just about…” Chas looked down in recollection of that week, Aaron noticing as her face dipped, presuming that she was remembering the terrible words that had been exchanged at the time.

“Well…I got…I got so drunk that I didn’t remember owt until the next morning…and I woke up in someone else’s bed…” Aaron choked as he struggled to remain in control, Chas’s jaw dropping again.

“But…but there’s a baby in there…” Chas murmured, pointing to the snoozing Harry in the corner. “Which means…”

Aaron simply nodded, not having actually thought of that yet. He had managed to get it up whilst absolutely pissed for a woman. The slimmest of chances had obviously conspired once more in the perpetually turning hurricane of Aaron Livesy’s life and had thrown him a heterosexual curveball he never would have seen coming. The thought made him retch somewhat; he had never been the sort of gay man to overtly express his disgust at female genitalia, but in his more private thoughts he often wondered what on earth Adam found attractive about what was essentially a gooey cave. These thoughts were far from Aaron’s mind sat on Chas’s bed, however, and Chas took him in her arms again as tears fell onto his damp lap.

“I love him so much, Mum, I thought I was going to finally have a bit of happiness…Robert forgave me and we got our lives back on track and I thought I’d finally made something of myself…and then this happens and…” Aaron tired himself out and pushed his snotty nose into Chas’s shoulder. “I’ve moved out of the house and posted the keys through t’letterbox, I just know he’ll never be able to forgive me for doing this to him…”

“So you’ve left him without even telling him why?” Chas asked, Aaron noticing no judgement being passed in her caring tone. “Don’t you think you’ve presumed a bit too much, love?”

“How can he stay with me after this? A random baby pops up on the doorstep, it turns out to be mine from a meaningless fuck it took him six months to get over…? Like he’s gonna wanna be a father to my bastard kid”.

“And he’s actually told you that to your face?” Chas leant back to see Aaron’s puffy red face. “That’s not a rhetorical question, Aaron!”

Aaron shook his head slowly, dipping his head to look into his lap once more.

“Well there we are, then”, Chas put her hand on his shoulder. “You still have a chance with him…just trust him that he loves you and see how it goes…I can’t believe I’ve just said that…”

Aaron chuckled bitterly as Chas took another liberal swig of wine. “I don’t know what to say to him…”

“Well, you don’t have to think about that right now. Just take a few minutes to get your head sorted out first”.

“But how can I, Mum?” Aaron shook his head. “I’m not fit to be a father, I don’t know fuck all about changing nappies and doing feeds and what to do wi’ ‘em!”

“You think I did, eh?” Chas chuckled to herself. “You really think I knew all of that parenting shit when you came along? It was bloody hard work! But here you are, twenty five years later, only as buggered up as the rest of us! Besides, you’ll have me, you’ll have Robert, you will!” Aaron tried to protest, but was too tired to argue with her, and just slumped back onto the bed. Chas shuffled up closer to her son, saying nothing as Aaron tried to gather his thoughts. He was a father now. He had a fundamental responsibility to bring up that child as best as he could. He couldn’t allow Harry’s life to be as messed up as his own upbringing had been. Aaron had plenty of mistakes to take lessons from, both from Chas and from...that man, but he felt the overwhelming sense of duty to Harry.

That didn’t prevent another idea hatching in Aaron’s frayed mind. If Harry couldn’t get stability from Aaron and his family life, he could give him up for adoption. He bet that the waiting list for cute little babies was off the scale, and then Harry would get all the love and attention he could possibly need, and Aaron would have known that he had done the right thing. However, there was still a shred of a bond between them, despite the fact they had only known each other for little more than an hour and a half. Aaron and Harry Livesy. Father and son. Bound by blood, and by temper, by the sounds of his incessant screaming.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, Aaron bolting upright at the disturbance.

“Chas, is everything alright in there?” Diane called, an edge to her voice that Aaron couldn’t place.

“Yes, but I’m trying to get some kip so if you could please, Diane?” Chas motioned for Aaron to be silent.

“This will only take a minute, Chas, I need to talk to ya!”

“Could this wait until the morning, ey?” Aaron’s heart beat through his chest, willing Diane to give up the fight.

“No, it really can’t, Chas, so please can we talk a sec?” Diane was insistent. Aaron knew that something was amiss because Diane had stopped using ‘pet’ and was addressing people by their actual names for a change. “Chas?”

“Alright, alright”, Chas muttered, but audible enough for Aaron to hear. She turned around to him to hide behind the bed as she opened the door slowly, careful not to let Diane see the Moses basket in the corner of her room. “What’s up, Diane?”

“Robert’s on the phone”, Diane sounded worried, Aaron almost feeling a spark of relief that Diane had moved on from Robert’s past and had taken him back into the Sudgen fold. “He’s asking where Aaron is…he’s left the house in a right tip, there’s sick on the floor, he’s taken his clothes from the wardrobe without leaving anything other than his keys…I was wondering whether you’d heard owt from him”.

“Nope, he hasn’t come here”, Chas sounded a little forced, but Aaron daren’t lift his head from above the mattress in the corner of the room. “Let me know if you hear anything, he sounds in trouble”.

“Sure, Chas”, Diane sounded as if she were about to leave, but Aaron didn’t hear the floorboards creak to betray her departure. “Are you sure you haven’t seen him?”

“Why would I lie to ya?” Chas giggled nervously. Aaron pouted – she’d always been a dreadful liar.

“Because normally if I had just told you that Aaron had left my stepson, you’d be the first one out of the door to lead the search party”, Diane sounded suspicious, Aaron’s heartbeat rising with every word, sweating making his palms itch like mad. “Come on, Chas, just tell me where Aaron is”.

“I don’t know, okay, for the last time!” Chas tried to shut the door on Diane, but she put her foot in the way of the door before it could close. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I heard crying and screaming coming from this room from down in the pub”, Diane’s voice had hardened further and now Aaron could almost hear Diane trying to force her way to the truth. “There’s something happening, and you know something about it!”

“It’s fine, Mum”, Aaron shouted hoarsely from the room. Chas bit her lip and reluctantly let the door swing open to reveal Aaron crouching beside Harry’s basket, Harry starting to cry once more from the heated discussion on the landing.

Diane walked slowly into the room, putting her hands to her face as she surveyed the sight before her. “Is that…?” she pointed blankly at the cot in the corner, Aaron nodding a weak confirmation as they made eye contact. Licking her front teeth in thought, Diane put the cordless telephone back to her ear, coughing into the receiver as she murmured, “Robert, pet…you might want to get here”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the chapter, I hope you enjoyed finding out who was at the door! Do tell me what you think, if I've pushed the realms of real life a bit too much or if you're enjoying where it's heading! I do love waking up to all of your comments and seeing where each of you think the story is heading, so do please keep them coming in. I kinda wish this chapter were a bit longer, but I reckon that the chapters will start getting longer as we get into the meaty parts of the story. Besides, quality not quantity! :P Kudos and comments always welcome, see you next chapter!


	5. Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron's mind snaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm so grateful for the positive feedback I'm getting for this fic! And well done everyone who had predicted correctly - evidently I'm as original as an X Factor sob story... I wasn't sure what you guys would think about it, but I love reading the comments trying to see if you guys can figure out where I'm going next with it. Hope you enjoy this instalment!

Aaron scrambled to his feet as Diane flashed him a wary look, Chas leaving the room to get make some coffee. “No, please don’t”, Aaron mouthed, his eyes wide with desperation as he tried to think of his options. What could he do? He was certainly in no fit state to confront Robert that night, but long gone were the days where he could throw his hood over his small but developed figure and disappear into the night, leaving behind nothing but the scent clinging to his bedroom carpet and his despairing mother. For some reason, he knew that he couldn’t leave without Harry, even though he knew he had absolutely no way of looking after him properly and didn’t know the first thing about all of that parenting shit.

Diane narrowed her eyes and faced away, “You’d better get here sharpish, pet, things could change pretty quickly…yes, pet…alright, see you in a mo”. She turned back to Aaron who had begun to pick up his bag and the wicker Moses basket. “No, Aaron, you stay here”, she glared at him, feeling the true force of Diane’s anger for the first time. There had been many times that they had rubbed each other up the wrong way, but never before had he seen Diane so passionate about protecting her stepson. “You’ve caused enough chaos tonight without taking off. You’re not eighteen anymore, you’re an adult with responsibilities to your son!”

_Shut up, you stupid cow, you don’t know anything about this!_

“If you think running off is going to make things better for you, you’re sorely mistaken...”

_Getting the fuck away from you would be a start, you nosy bitch!_

“…how on earth is running away from Robert fair on him? He loves the bones off ya, and you repay him with an illegitimate child and running off at the first sign of trouble? I thought there was more to ya, Aaron, but I guess you’re just a coward after all – “

“When are you gonna learn to shut your fucking gob when it’s not wanted, eh?” Aaron sneered, blinded by rage and his own self-hatred as he pushed past Diane with Harry’s basket and his bag in his hand. Aaron ignored Diane’s indignant remarks, rolling his eyes in frustration as Harry started to cry again. He burst out of the door, fumbling around for his van keys in his hoodie pocket and running down the stairs as quickly as he could without dropping Harry.

“Oi!” Chas bellowed from the lounge as she heard the cascade of footsteps tumble down past her, mugs billowing steam in her hand. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?! Oi? Aaron!”

Aaron ignored her, the basket swinging violently in his grasp; it was entirely possible that only centrifugal force was keeping Harry snugly within the basket’s walls at that point.

“You don’t need to do this, Aaron!” Chas was almost shrieking by this point, running down behind her troubled son and through the narrow hallway. “You have all the support you need here, we love you! I love you! Robert loves you! Paddy will understand when he gets back from his course! Come inside, please!”

Aaron kept his head down, letting his mother’s pleas sail over his head as he crunched over the gravel and pressed the button on the van fob, the headlights leaping into action. He swung the passenger’s seat open and throwing the basket carefully but forcefully in, wrapping the seatbelt around it and clipping it in. He ran without thinking to the driver’s door, Chas trying to stand in his way. He pushed past her, opening the door and climbing in, shutting it again before Chas could have a chance to put herself between Aaron and Harry escaping.

The engine roared out of its slumber, Aaron revving quickly to escape. As a crying Chas dodged out of the way, another set of headlights shone blindingly onto the gravel path. Robert was frantically and deftly turning around and, upon seeing Aaron trying to escape, tried to swerve in front of the van to stop him from leaving. Heart completely ruling over head, Aaron whirled the steering wheel in his hands, managing to nimbly dodge the spinning Mondeo and drive onto the side of the grass bank and out of the car park. He daren’t look back into the mirror, the high street getting smaller and smaller until it shrunk out of view. The dips and crests along the tight but quick road out of Emmerdale would normally cause the drivers to slow down; Aaron, however, was practically flying, the Transit van landing on its four wheels after taking a hill at enough speed that it had momentarily left the ground. He revved so that he could no longer hear Harry’s anxious pleas for attention, trying to block out the incessant attacks that swirled around his psyche.

What now? He had left his loved ones behind. Why the fuck did he do that? What was the point? Harry would be so much better looked after amongst them. Aaron had no chance of being a good enough father to an innocent child. Hell, he had thought that the best way of solving a problem had been to run away. Yet again. What sort of example was that setting? That was it – Harry Livesy was going to turn out just as fucked up in the head as Aaron. Great contribution to the world.

Aaron found himself longing for Robert to tell him that everything was going to be okay, that he could be a good father, and that he would have his undying support, always. But he knew that that was just a dream, a stupid fucking dream that Aaron had foolishly bought into believing over the past three months. Of course he was never going to get married to Robert. Good things didn’t happen to people like Aaron Livesy. People like him did not deserve to be happy. They hadn’t contributed anything to other people’s lives – nothing good, anyway. Only misery, pain, heartache, jealousy, deceit…the list was endless.

Robert didn’t deserve any of this. He had done so well to get himself back onto the straight and narrow, and here Aaron was, cruelly throwing curveball after curveball at him. The worst thing was that Robert had been more than willing to forgive Aaron and continue to love him. Now it was Aaron’s turn to the make the decision for him. It was clear that Robert was blinded by something; he knew that no one could love such a screw up as himself, so it had to be something like loneliness or guilt for ruining Aaron’s happiness in the past. It had seemed that karma had played its hand with a royal flush, and Aaron had to face up to the consequences of his very existence.

And if Robert couldn’t forgive him, where was he supposed to live? With Diane constantly having something to say about it? With Chas having to cover for him every time someone made a snide remark about the baby, or his sexuality, or both? It wouldn’t be fair to anyone, least of all Harry. Harry had only just come into the world; he did not deserve to have judgement foisted upon him at the very first opportunity.

It was at that point when Aaron wondered for the first time why Harry had been left on his doorstep in the first place. He had no doubt that he was his son – his rounded face and fiery temper put paid to any protestations to the contrary; what Aaron suddenly had a burning desire to know is why. Who would leave a newborn baby on a near-stranger’s doorstep in the middle of November? Why didn’t G want him? In fact, how dare she? How dare she come in and ruin Aaron’s life whenever she felt like it? She was out to get him, Aaron was sure – whenever Aaron felt good, whenever he felt like his life was heading down the easy path for once, G was there to scramble it all back up. Fucking bitch.

Rage began to bubble inside Aaron, itching through the tips of his fingers. His fingers grew sweaty around the leather steering wheel, slipping slightly as he navigated roughly the hills towards the motorway. His head grew heavier and heavier as a red mist started in front of him, causing him to push the accelerator further to the floor, his other hand wobbling on the gearstick. The van careered over another bump, landing with a minor thud on the tarmac ahead. The van jolted on landing, Aaron not quick enough to prevent the gearstick popping suddenly back into second gear from fifth. The engine started to shudder and splutter violently, and Aaron panicked as he struggled to engage fifth gear. The wheel twisted suddenly in his other hand, and suddenly the van hit a wet patch of grass on the bank. Aaron jerked the wheel round again, but it was too late; the van was sent into a sickening pirouette, smoke rising like fog from the burnt out tyres as it glided across the wet tarmac.

Instinctively, Aaron reached out and protected Harry from impact as they span endlessly towards the stone wall that lined the B road. Aaron shut his eyes tightly, awaiting the inevitable crunch of metal against stone. _I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything. I’ve fucked up, Harry doesn’t deserve this. Take me._

The impact was much lighter than he thought it would be; instead of a sickening smash, it was a light scrape as the van rested limply on the grass bank. Opening his eyes, Aaron choked as he struggled to regain full capacity of his rational thought processes. Harry’s wails throttled his auditory awareness and after shoving his thumb on the button to switch on the hazard lights, he took Harry for the basket and held him in his arms, whispering frantic apologies under his breath as he desperately willed him to sleep.

Aaron looked directly into Harry’s big round eyes, the bond of paternal instinct that connected them never quite as raw as that moment. Aaron found a floor of tears behind his enraged eyes, and his inner walls crumbled under the weight of such an intensely powerful moment between them. The tears clouded his sight completely, Harry and the road ahead becoming indistinct blobs as emotions overwhelmed him entirely. He held his son tightly like a stuffed animal, frightened that if he let go anymore he’d just do more damage to him by neglecting him. He couldn’t let him be neglected. Not like him.

Aaron hardly noticed the big white beams of light appear from the rear view mirror, too wrapped up in the mourning of his life as he knew it and the come down from such a close shave. Footsteps stomped emphatically in the late autumn night, and Aaron was shaken from his trance by the driver’s seat door being swung open by a frightened Robert. Aaron looked up into his fiancé (ex-fiancé’s?) eyes, and fell instantly into the dark abyss that attracted himself so effortlessly. Robert clung onto Aaron for dear life, and Aaron held him back, breaking down uncontrollably in his arms. He cried for the inevitable loss of his fiancé, the loss of his freedom, the loss of youth. He had been robbed for his future, to be replaced by one dominated by school trip forms and moody pubescent shouting matches. Was adoption still an option? Aaron wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything. All Aaron knew is that Robert was there, anchoring him to the ground, keeping him on the borders of sanity.

* * *

 

The drive back to the Woolpack had been silent; Chas had joined Robert in the Mondeo to look for Aaron, but had hung back as she watched her son and her future son-in-law melt into each other’s arms. Even Harry was silent, the ordeal of that night clearly having taken a toll on his energy levels. As they had left, Robert had put a hand on Aaron’s knee to try and calm him, but instead Aaron tensed, as if he didn’t know whether he should still be allowed access to Robert’s smooth and comforting touch on his body. He knew he had dishonoured him before – Harry attested to that uncomfortable truth – and now Aaron was unsure whether he deserved any of his relationship with Robert.

Diane was waiting on the doorstep as they pulled into the rear car park and got out of the car. She had started barking mild obscenities at Aaron, of how irresponsible he had been, of how a good father would never have put his son in direct danger like that. Robert stared her down pretty quickly, and she acquiesced as they walked up the stairs and put Harry down in the guest bedroom. Chas led them back up to her room in silence, the weight of such a dramatic evening having taken its toll on them all.

“I'll let you two talk”, Chas smiled sadly at Aaron before closing the door softly behind her. Upon hearing the latch of the door click solemnly into place, Robert leapt from where he was standing to take Aaron in his arms once more. Aaron saw this coming, and, having made up his mind on the issue, turned as his fiancé approached him. Aaron looked away from Robert as the latter sat down on the bed.

“Why can’t I touch you?” Robert frowned, having been exposed to enough of Aaron’s frayed mind to pick up on the slightest cues. “What have I done wrong?”

“It’s not you, Robert”, Aaron croaked. “It’s me. It’s all me. I don’t deserve your touch anymore. I don’t deserve to be loved by you, to be protected and appreciated by you. How can you be with someone who just rubbishes everything we have, everything we built up? How can you look at me ever again and not see the person that betrayed you? How can you look at Harry and not see the evidence of the pain I caused you? I’ve finished us, it’s all my fucking fault!”

“You haven’t finished us, Aaron”, Aaron could tell Robert was trying to sound calm, but was failing miserably. “Not if you don’t want us to be. I can forgive you, Aaron, I already have. And I’d be a massive hypocrite for dumping you when you just made a stupid mistake. It doesn’t have to be this hard, Aaron. I love you, and I can love Harry too, if you’d just let me. Come on, Aaron”, Robert got back up again, outstretching his arms. Aaron had made up his mind. He had no choice but to leave Robert, for Robert’s own sake.

“I’m sorry, Robert…I’m doing this for yo-“

“Will you stop fucking telling me what is right for me and what isn’t!” Robert hissed, anger seeping into his responses for the first time that evening. “I know for a fact that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, baby or no baby”.

“I’m not, Robert”, Aaron sighed, tears starting to form as he comprehended the weight of his decision. “You’ve put up with me for too long…you’ve put up with too much for too long. All I’m doing is holding you back from what you could be. I’ve always been the one to shoot down your ambition and make you settle for second best. This is me letting you go”.

“Aaron, I don’t want you to let me go. And there’s absolutely no way that I have settled for second best. You’re the best person I’ve ever met. I can’t believe how lucky I was for you to change my life for me. Why can’t you see what a positive effect you’ve had on me, Aaron?”

“Robert, I’ve made my decision”, Aaron whispered roughly, and pushed past him in the small room to the door. “I can’t ruin your life anymore, you need to go on without me”. Aaron opened the door for Robert to leave.

“Please, Aaron…I love you…I forgive you for everything…I just want you to come home…” Robert spluttered, seemingly not realising that Aaron had meant every word of what he had said. “We can go home, put Harry down for the night, and go straight to bed, and I can tell you how much I love you and how much you mean to me, and then we can fall asleep together and wake up tomorrow and start again. The three of us”.

“Impossible”, Aaron shook his head, not daring to lift his face so as not to show Robert the agonising tears rolling down to the bridge of his nose. “You need to go now”.

“Aaron…” Robert started, but sighed and stopped. “I love you so much, Aaron. I will always be there for you. And I will always be waiting for you to realise that you’ve been stupid and that I have forgiven you for all of the shit you think you’ve done wrong and then we can carry on with what we started. Because that’s more important to me than anything”. With that, Robert cast one more pleading look Aaron’s way, Aaron momentarily looking up to catch it before looking down again, and with that, the door was shut behind him.

* * *

 

Aaron was allowed to stay in the guest room that night, much to Diane’s reluctance. Chas had only convinced her because she knew that she couldn’t turn away Harry, who needed some stability after being carried about like an undelivered parcel. Aaron remained in his room for the entire night after Chas had delivered the news to him, not being able to resist reminding him of his mistake for letting Robert walk out of his life. Aaron did his best to ignore it, but his own doubts about his decision plagued him as he undressed and settled down into the sterile sheets of the single bed, the night already ageing quickly.

What if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life? He knew how much he adored Robert, how much he would do for him if he needed it. But could he afford to fuck up Robert’s life anymore? He knew he wasn’t best friends with the karma gods as it was, but any more and Aaron would be struck off of the Christmas card list for life. He loved Robert too much to watch him at Aaron’s side, picking up the pieces of Aaron’s disastrous life in Aaron’s oblivious wake. He had made the best decision for Robert.

Thoughts about adoption began to swirl once more in Aaron’s mind as he tossed and turned on his pillow. He was firmly sure that he wouldn’t be able to look after Harry on his own, aware of his own volatile nature not being entirely conducive to a stable upbringing. He knew how damaged he was, and it worried him greatly that all of his negative traits would be taught to his son, and that he would have ruined his life just by merely being in contact with him.

But then what about Chas? Aaron knew that his mother would be devastated at Harry’s adoption; despite Chas had accepted his homosexuality quite quickly, it had taken her a little longer to accept that grandchildren weren’t exactly on the horizon. Now that Aaron had given her that opportunity, it would be heartbreaking for him to take that opportunity away from her. But then, wasn’t it his life to think about first, not his mother’s? But then his selfishness had been what had brought about Harry in the first place, shouldn’t he be thinking of other people for a change?

Aaron tossed and turned all evening, not able to answer the dizzying riddles that tortured his mind. Harry slept more peacefully, knocked out from the whole ordeal. Feeling foolish for his jealousy at his son, Aaron turned over once more, hoping this time that this turn would be the one to welcome sleep. It never came.

* * *

 

Sick, paper and clothes hangers littered the floor, but Robert didn’t care. He didn’t even think to walk around them, simply walking over it as he trudged across the kitchen to sit on the lumpy sofa. Even though Aaron wasn’t a particularly loud and brash character, the house felt incredibly cold and empty without his presence, as if all the world had turned to grey.

Why couldn’t he make Aaron see? Why couldn’t he make Aaron understand that they could move on? Why was Aaron so hellbent on punishing himself for something Robert had forgiven him for a long time ago? Weren’t all of those therapy sessions supposed to have helped? Hadn’t Aaron moved on from his destructive thoughts processes long ago, consigned to when his boyfriends either killed themselves or tried to kill his family?

What if it were something that Robert had done? Had he been too attentive, or not enough? Robert knew he shouldn’t have gone on those business trips…Aaron obviously didn’t trust him. Either that, or didn’t feel as though he got the attention that he deserved. But Robert had tried so, so hard…he thought they had come so far from what they used to be, so destructive and intense. Robert supposed that he would never be able to have a proper relationship with anyone, the mountains of evidence against him too damning even for the most fervent of optimists (i.e. Victoria) to ignore. He was a failure.

Flopping weakly onto his side on the lumpy sofa, Robert took a hoodie that Aaron had left behind, having been left to dry on the radiator behind the sofa. He put it up to his nose, the instantly recognisable natural smell that clung to Aaron’s clothes cruelly intoxicating him as the good times came flooding back to him: proposing on the moors, the inexpensive holidays they had shared, the lazy weekends they had happily wasted wrapped up in each other’s existence. To think, the business meeting had been a success, and he had finally managed to find some investors for his new business venture. Aaron was the first person he was itching to tell, anxious to tell him the good news all the way back up on the train from Milton Keynes. Instead, he was laying on the sofa, trying to find out what he had done so wrong to Aaron to push him away.

Not being able to resist one voicemail message to Aaron, he dialled the number and waiting for Aaron to inevitably let it ring onto voicemail. He drummed impatiently against the side of the phone as he listened to the unbearably smug woman drone on about beeps and tones before he could give the message. Suddenly, the tone came at him unexpectedly. “Oh…hey Aaron…it’s me…please come home…we can sort this out…I love you…we can do this, Aaron, I swear…please ring me back, yeah? I love you, did I say that? I love you”. The phone dropped limply to the floor out of his hand, and emotions began to overwhelm him sharply as his world crashed around him.

_Come home, Aaron._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Splitting the POV mid chapter is normally something I consider to be a writing cardinal sin (with exceptions), but I couldn't resist bringing a bit of the angst to Robert as well! ;) So the next update might be in a few days - life is about to rugby tackle me into actually being organised and sorting things out, so I'll update this when I get the opportunity to sit down and write! Please do give Kudos and comments, I do always find them really helpful, and I love seeing your predictions! See you next chapter, thanks for reading! :D


	6. Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron looks for an escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Hope some of you are still here! If you are, how are you? Hope you enjoy this, it's taken long enough to arrive...

 

“Nappy needs changing, Aaron…Aaron, nappy? Aaron?”

Aaron had been dormant for the last few days. He had been staying at the Woolpack since he had left Robert, and Chas had been reluctantly given reprieve from bar duties to help Aaron get used to parenting. It was needless to say that that had most consisted of Aaron looking sadly at the wall in the living room and Chas doing all of the parenting instead. The daily duties had been far from Aaron’s mind, which had been plagued so heavily by thoughts of the consequences of his actions. He missed Robert desperately, feeling a hollow sense of loneliness as he woke the first morning. He had been accustomed to having at least one arm and one leg draped lazily over his body, almost suffocating him on some days. He would complain back then, but laid awkwardly on the chafing sheets at the Woolpack, it was all he wanted.

“Aaron, I’m not a nanny, he is your son”, Chas sighed in exasperation, giving up this time and finding the packet of nappies in the cupboard. “I’m not going to be doing this for you forever, it’s not fair on me”.

Aaron grunted in reply, not turning his head from the blank wall ahead of him.

“Look, love”, she put the nappy in her hand on the table and sat next to her son. “I know how difficult this is for you. You’re making it a lot harder by pushing away all the people who love you. You won’t let me talk to you, you won’t let Robert talk to you. You don’t need to punish yourself for this anymore. Yeah, it was a mistake. We all make mistakes”.

“Like I was, you mean?” Aaron murmured monotonically, his bitterness cutting like hailstones against bare skin.

Chas didn’t reply initially, bowing her head. “You were the best mistake I ever made, Aaron. Back then, I was…I was just so young that I didn’t realise what I had. If I could, I’d go back and do it all differently. You were so worth it. I just can’t bear to watch you make the same mistakes as I did. You have a beautiful son, Aaron, and you can be a really great dad if you wanted to be. Already that little boy is looking up to you, wanting his daddy. Realise what you have in front of you, love”. Chas placed her hand briefly on Aaron’s shoulder before going back to changing Harry’s nappy.

Good dad? Worth it? Best mistake? What sort of good person does this? What sort of good dad sets such a fucking awful example to his newborn baby? The list of his errors could fill all the Argos catalogues in Hotten, and that was just in between Harry’s conception and the present day. Writing the Domesday Book (whatever that was) probably took less time than cataloguing all of his life’s mistakes and regrets. What a ridiculous excuse for a human being he was. An absolute disgrace.

Why was Robert still calling? He had received at least one voicemail message a day from him, telling him that he wasn’t angry and that he just wanted to talk things out, meet Harry. If he met Harry, Aaron knew that he would immediately start to love him like his own, and that would mean Aaron would be back in his life, and Aaron couldn’t do that to him. He loved Robert too much to destroy his life yet again. But he missed him so much, particularly the tiny ridiculous rituals and habits that they did together. Robert would go down to the shop on Sunday mornings and get the bacon and the Sunday Telegraph whilst Aaron would overcook the eggs because he was too engrossed by the football highlights on the television that morning. On Friday evenings, they would have a cheeky kebab or a takeaway pizza and Robert would try to educate Aaron on his favourite television programmes, Aaron dozing off halfway through.

There would be no more Sunday breakfasts. No more Friday night snuggling. No more fights over the first shower, no more spontaneous piss ups. No more arguing about hoovering, or when Robert buys some extravagant contraption that only cleans up biscuit crumbs, or when Aaron drinks the orange juice straight from the carton. Their chapter was over. But Aaron couldn’t move on.

* * *

 

“Come on, both of you need to get some air”, Chas literally dragged Aaron out from the hallway by his hood as she pushed the pram over the gravel of the drive. “You can’t avoid the outside world forever, people already know about Harry”.

“Doesn’t mean I have to face them about it”, Aaron grumbled quietly, half to himself.

“It does, Aaron”, Chas replied sternly. “If you want to live in this village, go to work, see your mates, you have to go outside. I’m not letting you wallow in that living room all day. I know what you do if people leave you alone for too long”.   
  
“Shut up, of course I’m not going to do that!” Aaron spat, still looking down to the ground. But he had been thinking about it, a lot. He remembered the smooth feeling of the blade running over the tips of his fingers, digging in just so that he’d get a frisson of masochistic pleasure running warmly through his veins. His blood itched to be free, itched to pour like scarlet tears down his bare stomach. His nerves begged to be ripped and torn, screaming in delicious agony as the blade sliced deeper and deeper. His skin pleaded to be scarred, to leave a permanent reminder of his worthlessness on him like a badge, a white feather to show how chicken shit he was at facing life head on. He wanted to hurt himself.

“I know, I know…” Chas trailed off, refusing to look at her son as she added, “I trust ya”.

Aaron grunted again, walking off a few paces in front when Chas offered to let him take over pushing the pram down the village high street. Mercilessly, the village was busier than normal. Perhaps Chas had chosen it on purpose, to give Aaron as much of the flack as possible as soon as possible. It was a Sunday, so the dwindling population of religious people in Emmerdale were leaving the church service and walking back towards the quaint cottages that lined the side of the streets. Naturally, this meant only one thing: Edna. Edna had always been somewhat difficult with Aaron, and things had taken a turn for the awkward ever since Edna had admitted that her husband had felt the ‘forbidden love’. Mostly it consisted of either pained or pitying glances across the pub or the street, but sometimes it would be small words about sin and repentance if she was feeling particularly brave. Aaron wasn’t sure what reaction Harry would illicit, but he almost certainly didn’t want to know.

“Can we go down the fields instead of down the road?” Aaron mumbled hurriedly, seeing Edna harassing Ashley in the distance. “Mum?” he hissed.

“No, the fields are really boggy, the pram’ll get stuck in the mud –“ Chas was cut off as Aaron took the buggy handles and pushed Harry down a grass path, his mother following in ragged pursuit. “Aaron! Aaron! What was that for?!”

“I’m not talking to Edna today”, Aaron growled, keeping his eyes focussed on the path ahead. “She can keep her smug comments to herself, the nosy bitch”.

“Oi, have a bit of respect, eh?” Chas was panting as she caught up to the two of them. “She’s done a lot for the communit-“

“You call being a massive gossip and the least trustworthy person in the village community work?”

“Fair point”, Chas rolled her eyes. “But you have to face her at some point. If you face her today, it’ll get easier. If you don’t, it won’t get easier”.

Aaron knew that she had a point, despite that he really didn’t want to admit it. Rubbing his forehead and gulping down the lump in his throat, he stopped the pram and turned around. “It’s getting really boggy now, I reckon we’ll have to turn back”. He didn’t look to see Chas’s smug smile as he pressed onwards back up to the high street, hoping that Ashley had given into Edna’s insistence on some madeira cake and a glass of sherry, or whatever it was that old farts did for fun nowadays.

Naturally, Aaron had been awarded no such luck. Ashley had managed to politely but desperately decline Edna’s fervent advances and Edna had now turned to her gaze down the street just as Aaron and Chas turned the corner from the muddy path to the fields.

“Aaron! Chas!”

“Just keep thinking happy thoughts, love”, Chas murmured under breath as she smiled and waved to her approaching neighbour. Aaron furrowed his brow, focussing on how many different ways he could destroy that fucking awful hat she had seemingly been cursed to wear for the rest of her days. “Hello, Edna, love”.

“Hello, Chas, Aaron”, she nodded seriously. “And who’s this little mite, then? This must be the little Harry I’ve been hearing a lot about”.

Aaron scoffed, but Chas glared inconspicuously back. “Yes, this is Harry,” she turned the buggy round so that Edna could face him, Harry giving a curiously sceptical look in return. “Say hello to Aunty Edna, Harry!” Harry just blinked, unmoved as Edna bent over as far as her back allowed and smiled into the pushchair.

Suddenly, it came. The torrent of tears started to burst like an overstretched dam as Harry’s wails pierced the crisp autumnal air. They scraped agonisingly at Aaron’s eardrums, and he almost doubled over in the pain that soared dizzily through his mind.

“What’s the matter, eh?” Aaron saw Edna pouting at Harry out of the corner of his eye, her tendency to point out the fucking obvious grating sharply against his willpower to keep under control. “Is somebody having a bad day?”

“Is it that fucking obvious?” Aaron had meant to have kept that to himself, but Edna had obviously heard as she straightened her back and coughed indignantly.

“Is it too hard for you to keep your language in check, especially around your son?” Edna hissed sternly, Chas rolling her eyes as she did.

“Is it too hard for you to keep your nose out of other people’s lives for just once in your life?” Aaron sneered in return, not caring anymore about being civil and getting over fear.

“Excuse me!” Edna rasped, angrily taken aback. “I’m merely taking an interest in your newborn son! New children are always good for the village and I wanted to meet him! I’m even willing to overlook the unfortunate fact of his illegitimacy…”

“Oh thank you, fucking Saint Edna!” Strike one.

“…and the fact that you’re now apparently split from your…your friend, Robert…”

Strike two.

“…and I suppose we should rejoice that you’ve now seen that you can get back on the right path, with a woman…”

Out.

“I don’t have to fucking listen to this fucking bullshit anymore”, Aaron lashed his hands in disgust and walked away, his mother’s cries of protest getting mercifully quieter and quieter as Aaron splashed through the boggy fields and into the forests. But it didn’t matter how far he walked away from that sanctimonious witch – she was right, and boy did he fucking know it.

* * *

 

“Fuck”, Aaron hissed loudly, landing on his arse as he stumbled down three stairs in one go and fell on his side. He was angrier at himself for possibly having been heard by anyone through the walls to the pub out front than having just bruised his thigh, and the sizeable amount of alcohol that he had been consuming had numbed the pain into relative silence. He picked himself up and got up onto his tiptoes, wobbling as he walked as silently as he possibly could until he got to the front door, shutting it behind him slowly and staggering dizzily across the gravel out into the village.

Despite the world spinning incessantly and the stars blinding him as he staggered out of the car park, Aaron felt calmer and more in control than he had in days. He finally felt in control of his own destiny once more, his own hands barely back on the slippery leather steering wheel where his sweat had been smothered so recklessly before. The anchor had been dropped where he wanted it, and even if he tried to run, to create fanciful dreams of marriage, babies, and happiness, he knew the anchor would keep him resolutely stuck in the comfort of his twisted subconscious.

The anchor was, naturally, not a real anchor. Nor was it a slippery steering wheel. It was much lighter, much more compact. It fit into a pocket, completely ignorant of its own power to ground, to give pleasure, to provide solace. It was like a pencil, a paradox in its own way – light, but in reality as heavy as the lead that gave the pencil purpose. This gave Aaron purpose like no person, no occupation, no hobby, no belief, no animal ever could. It was his link to his own sense of feeling alive, his own humanity. The act of tearing away exposed his sensitive inner rings to the outside, as if releasing the highly pressurised evil that tightened his veins in an iron grip. He would almost moan as his red poison spilt seductively slowly down the paleness of his skin, begging for more and more release, for wickedness to set his soul on fire.

The twisted razor laid lazily sideways in the pocket of Aaron’s jogging bottoms, poking him deliciously, tantalisingly, making him beg for more as he stumbled through the dark streets, unconsciously pulling him towards the cemetery at the edge of the village. Whilst he didn’t particularly care, Aaron felt completely distant from any of his senses, the silent but ferocious will inside him being the one true force of all of his waking thought from the first tensely fizzy sip that afternoon.

He felt his name whisper through the trees as the encircling gales began to really pick up strength. His, and another man’s, that which had haunted his every step, his every visit to a hospital, to the cottages on the High Street, to the cemetery itself. It would normally send a severe fit of shivers down Aaron’s spine, but in his unfeeling, unmoving state, he welcomed the past, he welcomed its haunting, mocking presence. He felt the raucous laughter emanate from every bush, every flower, every leafless tree. History was preserved for the misery of the living, for those whose mistakes hadn’t been nullified by death, but had been qualified by the misfortune of having survived.

Finally sensing the close presence of one of his first great mistakes, he collapsed on his knees into an avalanche of tears. His knees melted into the sodden muddy grass encasing his former lover, his bare arms and hands pressing an imprint of his agony into the ground, as if to silently communicate beyond the grave. Eventually, he collapsed onto his side, unable to support his pathetic scrap of skin any longer. As he fell, the familiar blade at his side bore into his thigh.

“Fuck!” Aaron yelped, bringing him momentarily into a half-cooked sobriety, before the blissful tumble back into inebriation. His exclamation was not born out of unwanted pain, however; he wanted it, he craved it. He felt the need rise like a tide, and now, having remembered the blade’s presence, he reached down slowly to take it from his pocket, the tip already victoriously stained with a newly painted scarlet red finish.

His fingers wrapped clumsily around the handle as his other hand shook whilst lifting up his shirt, the wild wind snaking savagely around his bare skin. Slowly, he began to point the blade downwards, preparing for impact. For the first time, he could feel a lump of unsureness begin to form rudely in his throat, the rational minority pressing him to wonder whether there could be any way back.

But he had come so far.

He had made it here, he had found his way home. He had found his way back to where he belonged, where he was understood, loved, appreciated. He had known all along that no person could ever bring that sort of protection, but he could trust inanimate objects. They didn’t leave, they always remained until you needed them. You could rely on them.

Looking up sickeningly to the stars above and closing his tear stained eyes, he began to lower his hand and the blade onto his stomach. He felt the tip scratch invitingly at his stomach, begging him to do the final deed, to finish, to make it across the line. He just had to make one more movement. One more push. One more. One.

“Aaron!?”

Just do it, Aaron. Fucking do it.

“Aaron!?”

You need it. I need it. Come on.

“Aaron!!”

Aaron. Aaron. Push.

“Jackson!!” Aaron wailed helplessly. “I need you, I need you, Jackson! Help me Jackson!”

“Come on, Aaron”, came a Robert-shaped wave of sound as the stars gathered pace, whirling round and round as he laid on the grass looking up. “Aaron, let’s get you out of here”.

* * *

 

“Drink this up, Aaron, you’re gonna need it tomorrow”, Aaron heard Robert’s voice and saw a swaying blob of something see-through dangling in front of him. Trusting Robert, he took it, knocking his hand against it slightly until he grasped it and took a few sips, the drink feeling bland but comforting on his tongue. “Yeah, Chas, he’s round here. He’s pretty drunk, I wouldn’t try and move him until tomorrow, I know what he’s like…is someone around to look after Harry? Okay…I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to be here anyway, his dad’s not in a fantastic state…I’ll let you know, but I reckon he’ll be fine tomorrow morning…a bit hungover, though…okay…see ya, Chas”.

Aaron felt the sofa cushions sag slightly and a hand stroke through his hair lightly, relaxing as the smooth skin touched his crown. He took another sip of the water Robert had given him and sighed. His mind screamed for him to run away, to get out of there as soon as he possibly could. His heart and his body, however, kept him anchored to the sofa, lapping up Robert’s touch like a kitten with milk, his heart almost purring its relief to have the person he loved the most looking after him again.

“I’m so sorry, Robert….” Aaron wailed limply. “I don’t know what to do anymore…I’m out of options like…”

“No you’re not”, Robert rested his head on Aaron’s shoulder and took his hand in Aaron’s. “You have me, you always have me. And you have your mum, and Diane, and your family, and my family. We’re all right next to you, every step of the way. We all love you, Aaron, and watching you suffer is hurting us so much”.

Aaron just nodded, tears starting to bubble up again as he stared down into his glass. “I’m sorry”.

“Don’t apologise”, Robert kissed Aaron’s shoulder and snuggled up to him a bit closer. “Just give up this whole shit about you wanting to protect us from you. We know what you’re like, and we choose to love you. We’re not lumped with you, we don’t have an obligation. We want to be there with you, help you with Harry. I’m not gonna leave you on your own, Aaron. If anything, you’re stuck with me”.

Aaron took his time to reply, sighing once more as he asked sarcastically, “Since when did you grow a decency organ?”

“Since you gave me another chance and I couldn’t lose the people I love anymore?” Robert replied seriously. “I told you, you’re stuck with me. Whether or not you want to be in a relationship with me, I’ll always love you, I’ll always look after you, I’ll always care about you. It was you that taught me about that sorta shit”.

Aaron registered it enough to feel the faintest amount of shy embarrassment. They rested on each other in comfortable silence for a while, Aaron wondering in the haze of his inebriation where they stood and what this meant. His thoughts turned to how close he was to giving into his temptations and cutting himself again, Robert’s face of sheer horror making him shiver as he remembered. “I’m sorry you had to see that earlier”.

“Well, I’m not gonna say it doesn’t matter”, Robert murmured. “Like, you don’t know how sick it made me to see that. That hurt me more than you having a one night stand with a woman and fathering her child. But at least you couldn’t do it, that shows a bit of progress, doesn’t it?”

“I guess…but I don’t think I can promise that I won’t try again…but I can’t push you away anymore. I don’t have the energy…I guess it was half saving you and half punishing myself because you won’t do it for me…”

“You’re right, I’m not going to punish you, because you’ve done anything wrong. Except for not seeing how lucky you are. Just let us back in, Aaron. Please”. Aaron felt Robert stroke his thumb slowly over Aaron’s slightly hairy hands and Aaron, still dazed by the heavy combination of vodka, Bacardi, beer, and wine. Slowly but surely, he started to lean further into Robert’s grasp, Robert unfolding his arm so as to allow Aaron to slot in and rest his head on Robert’s chest.

“Maybe…” Aaron mumbled, his eyes drooping powerlessly, falling endlessly into Robert’s protective grasp, knowing that he wasn’t going anywhere alone. He never reached the bottom, falling and falling as the world became more comfortable and he could remember no more. For one night, he was free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone who is still around to read this! You're all super! Comments and kudos absolutely appreciated, I may have gotten a bit rusty... Thanks - I'll try to update as soon as I can!


	7. Springboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron fights against the tide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another surprise! Life is very busy at the moment, so this has been a long time coming. Having read the finales to some of my favourite fics recently has gotten my arse in gear and my fingers on the keyboard. I think I've rushed this chapter a bit, but I hope you think it's okay, I wanted to ride the crest of my inspiration whilst I had it! Thanks for reading!

Grit and gravel filled Aaron’s nostrils, dust caking his eyelids and lining his throat as he choked. His palms scrabbled for grip on the slippery path, rocks and stones piercing through the skin on his rough hands. He began to regain his balance with his thighs, his knees bending as he pushed against the ground, lifting himself up onto his feet once more. It was, however, only a heartbeat that he could feel the bracing wind to his jaw as a sharp blow to the shins brought him down again, his bare arms grazing agonisingly against the path. Scrabbling once more, grabbing out into the air, pushing with his knees, another blow to the shins. And another. And another. He went limp as he felt one blow after another; he felt his bones crack, his muscles burn, his skin tear. The bracing wind kicked up the dust as the blows kept crippling him, his empty lungs preventing his desperate wails from escaping his drying mouth, the wind and the dust gaining violence and speed as it blinded his sight –

Aaron’s eyes flew open, almost ripping the skin from the corners of his eyelids as he did; his breathing was tight and panicked. Suddenly, a jarring pain slammed into his shins once more and Aaron screwed his eyes up tight as he began to regain a more conscious grasp on his soaked mind. He felt the energy and the pain surge through his limbs, climbing like choppy waters to his neck and to his head, engulfing him as he turned over stiffly in his place. Slowly, but surely, he opened his eyes again, more gradually this time, letting the dull winter light drip lazily through the curtains and against his eyes. The light, thankfully, was less bright than it could have been, but still felt like a shower of a thousand pins nonetheless. The wind outside was whipping up a gale, the gentle knocks against the window glass like bullet shots through Aaron’s skull, making him feel sick and disorientated.

If the pin-sharp light was the film, the throttling vibrations in his head provided the soundtrack. Even without moving his head in the slightest, his head felt like a lottery machine, the balls bouncing round the fragile walls of his skull, making him feel sick as the tumbling grew stronger. He was grateful that he found himself in a bed, although he had no idea how he got there, nor what he had been doing since about… Aaron frowned. He couldn't even remember doing anything yesterday, which surely couldn't have been – at least one rather obvious activity was betrayed by his lobotomising headache. But given his track record on nebulous nocturnal activities, he could not help the feeling of dread that began to rise with the bile at the back of his throat. Not again. He knew he wasn't with Robert anymore, but the feeling of betrayal scraped along his arms, the shame boiling with the goosebumps that rose along his skin. How could he be so easy nowadays? He was so good at maintaining that iron grip control on his head that prevented his vulnerable heart from agony…but recently, he had thrown it all away. And what for? A quick fuck? A quick fix to a broken heart? To impatience, to impulse? And now, with no boyfriend, no support, no self-dignity, and a cursed child, he had reaped what he had sewn.

Aaron winced once more as another sudden blow rattled his shins, his legs feeling battered and bruised from the falling and the attacks just moments before. But Aaron was more cognisant of his surroundings now, the realness of the dream starting to evaporate into the stuffy air. Agonisingly, he turned his head on the pillow, his features immediately softening in disbelief and immense gratitude at what he saw. Robert dozed haphazardly on the pillow beside him, his sleeping light as he tossed and turned in his spot, kicking Aaron as he did so, his eyes screwed up in what appeared to be immense concentration. As Aaron began to notice his ex-fiancé’s discomfort, his face began to fall again, wondering how much he had to do with his apparent pain. Was he dreaming about him? About the break up? Maybe it had nothing to do with Aaron…but what if it did? The stress? The baby?

The baby.

Fuck.

Aaron miraculously summoned the energy to leap up from his position on the bed, which, even then, had been more of a tumble and collapse on to his side and to his feet. How could he leave his child? He didn't even know where he was! Heaven knew what the fuck Aaron could have done with Harry yesterday? What if he had flushed him down a toilet somewhere, or smothered with chloroform? He knew how stupid he could be…and if Harry wasn't here…then where could he be? He should never be a father. He had absolutely no concept of responsibility. He could blame his father for his own absence, but it was his fault, Aaron’s, this time. He had not learnt from his family’s mistakes. He just lived to corrupt another child’s life.

The barrage of abuse was cut short as Aaron winced in pain again, although this time it seared through his thigh, having leant on it in his attempts to stand up from the bed. Carefully, he looked down, a small, uncleaned gash glistening red ripping its way down his skin. How the fuck did that happen…? Biting his lip to divert the pain, he slowly leant forward to pull his jogging bottoms towards him, scrabbling limply before managing to get two fingers to a drawstring at the front. One heavy foot followed the other into the two holes for his legs, before heaving himself up clumsily to lift the hem of the bottoms to his waist. He felt his head rise slowly like a cart on a roller coaster, edging its way to the top before plummeting as his chin pointed to the ground, a sudden rush of blood and liquid filling his head and his throat.

Rushing as quickly and as quietly as he could to the toilet bowl, he amazingly managed to direct the torrent of last night’s spirits into the bowl itself, very little escaping around the sides. What did escape, however, was the noise. By this point, Aaron was fully focussing on expelling whatever demon liquid he had managed to keep down the previous night, and didn't notice a hand come up on his shoulder and a voice soothing him, telling him to get it out now, that he would be alright, that he was looked after. And at that moment, with the total loss of control, the subservience to his inner demons and their consequences, he was powerless to refuse it.

* * *

“I'm sorry”, Aaron mumbled, a towel around his waist as he stepped out of the ensuite and back into the bedroom. Robert simply got up from where he was laying, the unread magazine falling to the floor with the sheets as he stood to embrace him, uttering no words as the comfort of the embrace enveloped them both. “I've been such a burden”, Aaron added as they rocked slightly in their closeness.

“You're never a burden, Aaron”, Robert murmured assuredly, confidently, simply.

“Cleaning up my sick, my wounds, my mess?”

“Comes with the package, Aaron”, Robert replied, once more in the same unwavering voice.

“Where’s Harry?” Aaron’s voice returned to panic slightly, although didn't leave the embrace.

“At your mum’s, you didn't take him with you”.

“Where?” Aaron was hesitant to even attempt to piece together the previous evening’s events, but the curiosity nibbled uncomfortably against his stomach, pushing him to ask.

“Here”, Robert replied shortly. “You came here, off your face, we chatted, and I carried you to sleep. Got to say, I ain't carrying you over the threshold when we get married unless you want to give me a hernia!”

Aaron ignored the humour and the mention of marriage. “I should get out of your hair”, he finally managed to break out of the cloud of comfort being emitted by the embrace, hobbling slowly over to his pile of clothes at the corner of the room.

“No, please don't, Aaron”, Robert’s voice lost its assurance, insecurity and vulnerability peeking through the cracks. “You don't need to do this anymore, you said you couldn't last night”.

“I can't agree on something I don’t know I said”, Aaron grunted in reply, not looking down from his legs as he put his pants and jogging bottoms back on. “How did I get that gash on my thigh?”

“Fell over on the gravel”, Robert replied, a little too quickly. “It was icy last night as well”.

“Right”, Aaron murmured, pulling last night’s shirt over his head and standing up. “I best be off. Thanks for the shower”.

“Aaron, why are you doing this to yourself?” Robert began to plead as Aaron limped forcefully through the door and down the familiar stairs. “The more you hurt yourself, the more you're hurting your kid! Aaron! Aaron! Aar-!”

Robert walked straight into Aaron as Aaron stopped dead in his tracks at the bottom of the stairs. It was just out of the corner of his eye, that glistening sheen upon its metal head provided by the lamp left on the previous night. Suddenly, the fog of that night began to lift, to be replaced with stormy flashes of memory: the sharp pain on the stairs, the deliriousness at the cemetery, collapsing in Robert’s arms.

Aaron burst from the living room into the open air, the wind hitting his face like a net. He squinted, failing as he tried desperately to escape the house, the winds pushing him assertively back to Robert, he himself pushing against the gusts in pursuit. Aaron’s gaze stayed resolutely forward, but a wayward hand clung onto his hoodie, pulling him back. Defeated, Aaron dropped the fight, almost bowling him over as the wind pushed the pair back to the front door.

“Get in”, Robert growled, patience exhausted as Aaron turned back into the house and collapsed against the doorframe. “I'm not having this anymore, it’s getting really boring now. You know I don't like being fucked about”.

“So much for ‘I’ll wait for you forever’ then”, Aaron sneered, but Robert didn't enable him, keeping silent. “Fuck, what is it you want from me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?!” Robert’s temper began to flare above the howls of the wind. “Do you even remember why you wanted to marry me? What all the shit before was about? What we had to work through, what I had to work through? You've got your head so far up your own arse, you're not seeing anything around you!”

“Ha”, Aaron chided emotionlessly. “Boot’s on the other foot now…”

“Fine”, Robert turned to the coat hanger, shoving on a leather jacket as he took his keys. “If you're gonna throw that in my face, I've got better things to do than be lectured about my own past, thanks”. The door slammed behind him.

* * *

Alone again. The clock ticked ominously on the wall. The wind rattled the gutter. The silence hummed deafeningly. Alone again.

The floorboards shook as Aaron’s fist met the wooden floor with a thud. The stuffy air became charged with the short, tense breaths escaping his lungs. His hands shook on the floor where he laid, the inconsistent drumming like hailstones against a window. Tears began to form in the tired corners of his eyes, that poisonous resin carving stinging scars into his eyelids. The building began to shake, the fragile walls crumbling bit by bit, bricks falling, crushing work tops, collapsing shelves. The wind flew the door open, the door knocking into the stairs. The resulting hole grew, and grew again, the floor above caving in around his feet, beds following drawers, baths, beams, roof tiles. Crushed under its weight, the tears flooded the wrecked room, the water rising, consuming his feet, then his ankles, his knees, his chest. It rose above his head, the wall behind him collapsing as the water filled his nose, his mouth, his ears. The light grew whiter as his breath drew sharper, silent chokes rippling the water as he sunk, he sunk, he sunk.

The clock on the wall ticked softly. Aaron collapsed to the floor, sobbing.

* * *

Aaron walked almost at a canter, the wind having changed direction as it pushed him towards the pub at the end of the high street. As it turned out, rock bottom is a springboard, its springs laced with needles. Aaron had always assumed that Robert would be there to pick him up or enable his misery; realising that he had his limbs had left Aaron totally hopeless. Despite that he had always been uncomfortably aware of their attraction, he hadn’t fully understood the necessity of their connection until Robert was prepared to cut it off for good. And then came the flood of emotion, strong enough to break down walls, bones, strength itself. But once that strength had overpowered his own stubborn power, he almost felt high with realisation, with a new focus, a renewed sense of purpose.

Aaron narrowed his eyes, not due to the wind, but to his determination to disproving his own criticisms. He had been through enough heartbreak to know that he couldn't just wait for something miraculous to happen, and more wallowing would lead to another rock bottom. Rock bottom happens for a reason; to not listen would be not to learn. Fuck settling. Fuck punishment.

The gravel crunched purposefully as he marched around the back and through the rear car park, Aaron scrunching up his mouth as the door loomed towards him. He put his hand on the handle and walked through the unlocked door, not remarking on the unusualness of this fact as momentum pushed him up the stairs. He had no idea what he was looking for, what he wanted; he just knew he had to move forward.

Aaron was stopped in his tracks once more, his features freezing over as he struggled to compute the scene in front of him. Robert was sat in the corner of the living room in the armchair, Chas sat on the arm, both looking away from the door where Aaron stood. In Robert’s arms, Harry snoozed softly, wrapped up in his spotless white blanket, Robert rocking him slightly, a small grin confined to the corner of his mouth. Aaron saw Chas’s side profile, a smile also escaping her lips as she surveyed the sight of unconditional love that she saw before her.

As quietly as he could, Aaron stepped back into the hallway and around the corner to gather his thoughts. He closed his eyes, struggling as hard as he could to be angry. How dare Chas let him see his son without his permission! She knew that they were over, Robert might not have been a part of his life as far as she was concerned! His mind seethed half heartedly at the late night calls that the pair must have had, making vague guesses on how weak poor little Aaron must be, how he couldn't look after himself.

Aaron gripped his hand into fists, digging his fingertips in, trying to get his blood pumping, egging the red mist on. He made his breaths sharper, small puffs of air sent out meekly from his nostrils. He scrunched up his face, willing his heartbeat into overdrive. He made his hands shake, tensing as hard as he could.

But he couldn’t.

The anger had left him. He was desperate to wallow in his bad luck, that old comfort blanket, that old friend. But it wouldn't come, it couldn't. He certainly didn't have the strength, let alone the reason. He realised that his anger at other people was merely the leftovers of him being angry at himself. As the knowledge of this seeped through every pore, ever cell of his body, he felt the rest of the tension fall like static from the tips of his fingers to the ground. He breathed deeply, finding it easy now that he had stopped shaking or being tense. He was free.

Walking slowly back to the living room, he turned the corner to see Robert and Chas looking straight at him, their breath baited, their stances like stone. Aaron walked up to the doorframe, his face emotionless as he fought to hang onto his inner serenity. He gulped, the lump of guilt and hatred thick and stodgy, getting caught in his throat, making Aaron almost wheeze as he fought against his instinctive anxiety. Robert bit his lip, looking up to Chas and then back to Aaron as he went to open his mouth, but shut it again as the muscles of Aaron’s cheeks heaved into a movement most alien to them. The muscles ached, the bones creaked.

Aaron smiled.

“I see you've met my boy, then”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plain sailing from here? Looooooooolno. Sorry, a lot more story left! I can't promise I will update quickly, but hopefully old habits die hard and I can upload another chapter soon! Thanks for reading, please give kudos and feedback, it helps me see where I can improve! Thanks! :)


	8. Effort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron struggles in the face of trying to be a father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise again!! This week's storylines have given me a little bit of creative juice to eek this out - do forgive me for my constant delays :( Enjoy!!

_Not again._

Aaron’s eyes flicked open with a familiar ache as he squinted in the half-light of the bedroom. Almost robotically, he leaned forward, away from the comfort of the pillow, and plodded two bare feet on the ground. A flick at the alarm clock at his bedside to add to the agony (03:42), he heaved himself up in pursuit of it. That sound. Again. The usual cold sense of dread engulfed him, and it felt like the sound moved further and further away, but somehow became even louder. 

Finally, the end of the corridor.

“Mate”, Aaron grunted, eyes staring sullenly ahead. “You need to get some sleep. I need to get some sleep. Why won’t you sleep?”

Harry ignored him, his wails piercing through Aaron’s ears as he gingerly picked his son up from the Moses basket. Aaron couldn’t help but feel distant from the ball of baby in his arms, knowing that when he was a boy he’d give anything for a couple more hours kip. Maybe he was just finding excuses. Maybe he knew deep down he couldn’t be a father. 

“You’ve not shat yourself, I’ve read you a million stories, I’ve fed ya,” Aaron was beginning to feel even stupider as he desperately listed his other tactics. “Please just sleep”. He rocked him in his arms, initially quite gently, but with a look of concentrated desperation right at Harry’s forehead. He couldn’t even look him in the eyes he felt so ridiculous. The rocks became more forced, and they became swings. Sweat started to drip down Aaron’s forehead, the darkness engulfing him as he felt Harry getting heavier and heavier, a reminder of his stupidity and his hopelessness. The swings became shakes, the wails became shrieks. The thinnest of breath was caught in the back of Aaron’s mouth, choking him a little as the darkness overcame him, pushed him down. 

The weight was lifted just in the nick of time, but only for the briefest of moments. The sound grew more distant as Aaron made out the sounds of another pair of feet padding around the basket, Harry’s screams gradually growing quieter and quieter until only his breathing could be heard, gently tickling the cool air of the room. Aaron stayed rooted to the floor impotently, his gaze out of focus. 

 _This is the proof_. _He doesn’t even like you._

Aaron’s heart dropped like a stone, the hairs on his arms raised in the coldness of his thoughts. 

“Aaron”, came a whisper as the rest of Robert joined Aaron on the floor with a light kiss on Aaron’s crown. “Don’t take it personally, it’s just luck - “

“Then why does he always do it for you and never for me, eh?” 

Aaron could sense Robert fighting to say something, but he held his tongue, simply tugging at Aaron’s arm to come back to bed. Maybe last week Aaron would have resisted, revelled in wallowing in his own self-hatred. But that night he relaxed his muscles and let Robert hoist him back on his feet again, a wayward arm tucked around Aaron’s waist as they stumbled back to their bedroom. 

* * *

Click. 

The radio burst into life, making up for the still slumbering Saturday dawn to finally clear into day. Aaron just blinked. Again. He hadn't gotten back to sleep at all, even though Harry had slept through most of the night. He could feel the weight below his eye-sockets droop his skin down, feeling his gauntness through his aching cheekbones. 

Warmth seeped through his veins welcomingly as he felt a Robert shaped mass engulf his bare back and wrapped its arms tightly around his chest; Aaron relaxed slightly, falling back into the embrace and letting himself feel safe. 

“And you tell me off for fidgeting at night”, Robert breathed teasingly into Aaron’s neck. “Did you get back to sleep in the end?”

Aaron just replied with a shake of his head. Planting a kiss to the nape of his neck, Robert didn’t respond out loud. Aaron breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed this thumb over the back of Robert’s hand. The steady breathing on his neck lulled Aaron slightly, and he felt his eyes begin to flicker in drowsiness, slipping, slipping cosily from consciousness and into nothingness. The velvet darkness was a whisker away, so close, Aaron could feel it on the tip of his nose -

The familiar shriek came rolling down the landing; Aaron felt like he had been smacked in the face with a saucepan. 

  
“Come on, I’ll see to that”, Robert squeezed Aaron’s shoulders lightly, Aaron hearing the sheets rustle as Robert got back to his feet. “You get a bit more kip, eh?”

Aaron couldn’t. 

_Proof._

* * *

It was the tantalising whiff of fried bacon that wrapped itself around Aaron’s nostrils and eventually lassoed him to the breakfast table. Tightening the strap of his dressing gown, his stomach leapt at the sight of a fresh fry-up sat steaming deliciously on the table, his veins finally starting to grind into gear. 

“Was gonna bring it up, but I thought getting you out might do you good”, Robert called from the worktop as he finished preparing his own. “Even remembered the black pudding”, he added smugly. “What am I?”

“Perfect”, Aaron mumbled absent-mindedly, but squinted and blushed as he realised what he had said. He looked up at Robert, who was swaggering at full pelt by this point, eyebrows raised in arrogant arches and the tips of his mouth creased up. 

“I was going to go for amazing, but perfect will do”, Robert’s gaze softened, and, for a moment, Aaron had forgotten Harry, that things had been so fraught, that he had almost given up on their marriage before the ceremony. Aaron blushed again, and Robert gave him a soft brush with his foot under the table in silent reply. “Anyway, we should get up and do something”, Robert snapped back into ‘morning person mode’, scooping up his knife and fork as he cut at the bacon. “Just you and me”.

“I thought the whole point of this week was to see if I could be a proper dad, like”, Aaron murmured, remembering the deal they had made when Aaron had ‘caught’ Robert with Harry and Chas in the pub. Fourteen days; if Aaron still felt useless after fourteen days, they would give up Harry for adoption. _And it’s only day six…_ “What’s the point if I just drop him off at my mum’s and forget about him?”

“You are allowed time to yourself, even as a parent”, Robert replied. “And besides, your mum’s great with Liv, and she likes playing doting granny”.

“Like my mum’s gonna wanna be called granny”, Aaron amused himself for a moment. “Liv’s different though, she’s almost seventeen now, she’s good at looking after herself”. 

“Come on, Aaron”, Robert pressed gently, reaching over for Aaron’s cold arm. “Do something for you for a change”.

Aaron looked up from scraping the beans on his plate. “What did you have in mind…?”

“Thought we could get something to eat in that nice pub out near Castleford and then catch a film in Leeds?”

Aaron mulled over the proposition in his head; it had been a while since they had done something just for themselves, especially in the days after he found Harry. And even though he was reluctant to admit it, Robert was right - he wanted to get better, he couldn’t back there again. He couldn’t. 

“Cool”, Aaron nodded, typical nonchalance thrown in as he bit into his hash brown. 

"Great!”, Aaron could sense the relief coming off his fiancé in waves. “I’ll give your mum a ring then, and you go get ready”. 

Buoyed with something resembling energy, he downed the rest of the tea in his mug and bounded upstairs, Robert’s relieved expression in his wake. Down the landing, he headed for the bathroom. He didn’t see Harry looking at him curiously as he marched past. 

* * *

“Where is he, then?” Liv pressed as she swung open the door, her face bobbing every which way to grab a glimpse of her new nephew. 

“Missed you an’ all”, Aaron rolled his eyes as he wiped his feet. Liv huffed and gave him a hug which grew tender, to Aaron’s surprise. By coincidence, Liv had headed to Ireland to visit her mother for a little while just before Harry had arrived, and Chas had convinced her to stay a little longer to give Aaron some space. Even though she had come back late the night before, Aaron couldn’t see a trace of tiredness under her sharp brown eyes. Aaron twitched his nose in amusement. “Nice time?”

“Meh”, she shrugged as she let go of her older brother. “Mum’s coping a lot better over there, but she still bores the shit out of me”. 

“Ey ey”, came a sharper voice from down the hallway. “No way to talk about your mum, that”, Chas’s warm smile took the sting from her bark as Robert came through the door with Harry. “Come on, let me see ‘im”. Aaron moved to the side to let her through, and Robert returned the warm smile as he swung the Moses basket so she could see him. “Hello, mister”, she cooed, dipping her nose into the basket. “You come to play with Nana Chas?”

“Ha, granny”, Liv scoffed, still craning her neck to get a peek. 

“That makes you Aunty Liv, though”, Aaron chided smugly, earning a V-sign and a curled lip from Liv before Chas could turn round. “Come on, let’s get him inside instead of standing in the hallway, it’s bloody freezing”. Aaron took the basket handle from Robert’s hands as they pressed on through the hallway, almost letting himself get caught up in the occasion. As he held the basket in his hands, Harry let out the gentlest of cackles, the sound hitting Aaron straight in the chest. Catching the smallest of knowing smiles from Robert, he bit his lip and turned into the living room. 

“So where’s he whisking you off to today, then?” Chas called as she turned down the television. 

“Just off for some food and a flick”, Aaron replied, setting the Moses basket down on the table. “Should be back before tea time”.

“Just in time for tea, then”, Chas decided before either Robert or Aaron could reply. “We can all have a nice catch up, find out what Liv’s been doing in Ireland”. 

Aaron couldn’t argue against that; he’d certainly missed his sister, even though he was extremely grateful that she didn’t have to see the way he had gone into meltdown over the previous weeks. He knew he’d definitely miss hearing Liv banging around the place like a bull in a china shop; when his mother had told her about the news, Liv had agreed to move back into the pub for a while to give Aaron and Robert some space with the baby. He rubbed his chin, wrapped in his own thoughts. “Sounds good, then”, Aaron nodded. “Come on you”, he turned to Robert with a smug glint in his eye, “time to treat me”. 

Robert pouted playfully, but acquiesced as he turned on the spot to walk back down the hall. Aaron began to join him, but another cackle from behind stopped him in his tracks. He peered over his shoulder, catching the blue onesie out of the corner of his eye. Swallowing the bile in his throat, he turned back again and walked carefully over to the table and to the basket, his hands jumping erratically on the wicker as if made of lava. He peered into the basket, making out Harry’s dark brown eyes in the shadow of the hood. 

“Sorry, little man, almost forgot about ya”, he put his hand hesitantly around his son’s fragile body and squeezed slightly, making Harry goo again. “I’ll see you in a bit, mate, yeah? Be good for Nana and Aunty Liv, yeah?”. He took his head out of the wicker basket and wiped a solitary tear from his cheek, not even noticing the silence and the sympathetic gazes of his family. With a silent wave, he left, Robert trailing hurried goodbyes in his wake. 

* * *

Robert’s face started contorting again like whenever Aaron started displaying one of his annoying habits. Aaron’s leg was shaking against the side of the cup holders of Robert’s car, almost knocking the gearstick out of gear. 

“Aaron, if you keep doing that, we’re gonna crash”, Robert moaned flatly, a hint of low-lying dread in his voice. “Aaron?”

“Wha - ?” Aaron blinked out the doziness in his eyes and tried focussing. “Sorry”.

“You alright?” Robert’s voice grew softer as they pulled up to some traffic lights. “Swear you’ve been somewhere totally different all day, you’re making even less sound than usual. Did you not enjoy today or something?”

Aaron shrugged, a million words tensing his shoulders as he heaved them upwards. “Just thinking”.

“About…” Robert trailed off, knowing that Aaron would understand what he meant. Aaron just grunted, not wanting to reveal too much. “You looked like you were almost liking it when we dropped him off at your mum’s earlier, you went back and said bye and everything, Aaron. That has to mean something, right?”

“But what if I end up keeping him and end up fucking it up anyway?” Aaron rasped, not daring to look at Robert’s hopeful expression. “I end up ruining his life because I was too selfish to give him to someone who can look after him properly?”

“And how many times have me and your mum told you that we're there to help?” Robert sighed, although not in exasperation. “We’ll always have your back, mate. We’re your family, and we’re Harry’s family as well”. 

“That doesn’t make me any better at being a Dad”, Aaron grumbled. “You saw what I was like trying to get him to sleep. I swear every time I try to actually help him, every time I pick him up or try to get him off to sleep or whatever, he screams even more. When you sort him out, he stops”. 

“But how are you expected to know how to do all of this when this is the first baby you’ve looked after?” Robert reminded. “Most of the time it’s luck with me, and there were a few times when you were asleep the night before that I was with him for half an hour trying to get him off to sleep. It’s just as hard for me as well”.

“As hard?” Aaron scrunched his nose up in confusion. “That makes it sound like you don’t want him either”. 

“That’s not what I meant…” Aaron could hear Robert straining to think as he pulled onto the dual carriageway back to the village. “But I won’t pretend that I ever saw us having kids…I thought we weren’t that sort of couple, I thought I’d be happy just playing the doting uncle and then escaping again…it still scares me a bit, Aaron…” Aaron could hear the stress get to Robert for the first time for a child that wasn’t even his, guilt overcoming him as he realised how much Robert was prepared to give up for him. “Knowing I have a little boy that’s reliant on me to be looked after…this isn’t like with Liv, she was older and could fight back…this is big, Aaron…”.

“Reliant on you?” 

“On us”, Robert corrected himself in frustration. “Shit, this isn’t coming out well…but I want you to know that I’m just as scared as you…but I’ll be there, Chas’ll be there, Vic and Adam and Liv will be there…and if he’s your son…well, he’s a son to me as well”. 

Aaron was silent for the rest of the car journey, Robert’s devotion lulling him into a comfortable silence and the smallest of smiles. 

* * *

 

The smell of roast pork from the oven suffocated the entire house with hunger and empty bellies, eager for it to be ready and to tuck in. 

“There he is”, Aaron had said cautiously as he entered the living room, Harry dozing quietly in Liv’s arms in his light blue onesie. As soon as Aaron bent down however, Harry’s eyes burst open, almost making Aaron jump as Harry seemed to point at him. 

"He’s been waiting for his daddy to come home from the pictures”, Chas laughed as she checked on the roast potatoes. 

“Well Daddy’s back home now”, Aaron flashed a small smile at his son as Harry looked straight back up at him. Liv motioned for Aaron to take him, but Aaron shrank back slightly. He looked so fragile, and Aaron was petrified of doing something to make him cry again. _Those goddamn cries_ … 

“Say hello to Robert then, eh”, Aaron was grateful for Robert stepping in, his fiancé stepping past to take Harry into his own arms and proceeding to blow raspberries. Aaron bit his lip as he heard his son make noises back, aching to get involved whilst feeling so hopeless at the same time. Robert turned slightly, the corner of his mouth creasing tentatively as he noticed Aaron watching. Aaron’s feet stayed rooted to the floor, but he couldn’t help but feel like he wanted to hold him, like he almost wanted… “Come on, let’s say hello to Daddy, then”. 

This time, Aaron pushed his feet into the ground, determined not to move away or look frightened. Slowly, he unfurled his arms as Robert went to place Harry in his grasp, and slowly Aaron could feel his son snuggle into the embrace, looking up inquisitively with his big brown eyes. 

“Wh-what you been doing today then?”, Aaron asked quietly, searching for something to talk about. “Have you been playing with Nana and Liv, eh?”

“And Vic, she was desperate to have a play as well”, Chas added, reaching for her phone. “We’ve been playing selfies all afternoon…”, Chas held up her phone to Aaron, who couldn’t help but cough into laughter at the display; Chas and Vic were doing their best to smile and hold up Harry at the same time, but Harry was just staring straight into the camera lens in horror as Liv was almost pushing them all over. 

“One for the album, that”, Robert remarked in amusement.

Liv huffed and marched back to her room, “I thought we were going to delete that one, I look evil!”

“Tea’s in ten!” Chas warned, smiling to herself as she put the phone back down and walked over to her son. “You look a lot more natural than you think, Aaron”. 

“I’m…I’m just so scared of dropping him, of doing something really wrong…like…he…that...man”

“You’re not gonna be anything like him”, Chas replied, her voice stronger and sterner in her conviction. “I know how much love you give people…Harry would be so, so lucky to have a dad like you in his life, looking out for him”.

“But what if I end up hurting him, or driving him away?” Aaron didn’t look up, just maintained his gaze on his dozing son. “What if he hates me? What if he wants his mother, or wants to run away, or hates himself because of how things are? It almost killed me, mum”.

“But you pulled through, you were the better person”, Chas put her arm around Aaron as she soothed. “If anyone can show a kid how to bounce back from adversity, it’s you”. 

Aaron didn’t reply as he kept on thumbing Harry’s big bald head with his thumb. He looked up, saw Robert looking back, a tight smile on his face. Aaron flashed a quick one back. _Maybe._

* * *

Harry’s screams echoed down the corridor. 

Aaron’s head perked up from Robert’s chest on the sofa, ears pricked in familiar dread. But this time, Aaron frowned and pursed his lips in quiet determination. 

“I’ll go up”, Robert balled his hands into fists to push himself up, but Aaron placed a hand on his chest. 

“No, I will”.

He climbed the rickety old stairs, the footsteps heavy as he drew short breaths. Light as a mouse, he padded into Harry’s makeshift room, wincing as the cries filled the room with a dense noise. 

“Come on, mate”, Aaron held his breath as he picked up his son, tears streaming down Harry’s face for whatever reason it was this time. “You hungry?”, Aaron offered hopefully, but Harry pushed the bottle away with his nose as the screams grew mightier. “Come on…” Aaron searched desperately for something, anything. He picked up Harry’s bright blue rabbit from the Moses basket. “Oh, who’s this, eh?” he offered quietly. “It’s Mr Rabbit, isn’t it, it’s Mr Rabbit! Say hello to Mr Rabbit”. 

The cries started to turn to gargles. Aaron’s heart rate started to drop to double digits again. 

“He says, ‘Hello Harry, I’m Mr Rabbit’”, Aaron made his best animal storytelling voice, but nonetheless couldn’t help feeling like a total knob. “And I’m going to help you get to sleep”. He pressed Mr Rabbit lightly to Harry’s side as he rocked, looking at the moon in an effort to anchor his temporary calm to something fixed. He shushed softly as he felt Harry relax in his arms, his son’s face pressed against Mr Rabbit’s soft belly. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, Aaron placed Harry back into the Moses basket, Harry readjusting as his soft body hit the blankets. 

Aaron bit his lip in disbelief and breathed. And felt the tiniest bit of warmth. 

The piercing sound of the doorbell cut through the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a couple of things to explain here because this is going to become slightly AU (because so much has happened to our boys in canon since the last chapter - LIKE PLEDGING THEIR UNDYING LOVE TO EACH OTHER; seriously, Aaron hadn't even collapsed in Robert's arms in the scrapyard when I last updated this...).  
> a) the whole Gordon thing - in this story, Aaron's closest loved ones know pretty much the extent of the abuse Aaron suffered, but it never went to trial because nobody could track Gordon down (not even Robert or Cain!). Aaron's doesn't cope therefore quite so well with it as in canon because it's not as resolved, but this is the best that Aaron could hope for if they couldn't find Gordon. This is also why Aaron's last name is still Livesy in this fic.  
> b) Liv - I decided to write Liv into this because she's a good character, and in canon I still see him as mostly brotherly towards her and not paternal (even if he's often concerned about her and helps Chas look after her). I may rewrite some of the earlier chapters to include her in it, but I think that not having her in the story sort of misses a trick as Aaron can see how well he can actually cope with being a dad. Plus I get to write sarcastic bitchy lines between them and that's good fun.
> 
> Anyway, sorry again that it took ten months to write a 4,000 word chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it. Kudos and comments are always appreciated and loved. Thanks again guys!!


	9. Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone who read the last chapter - hopefully it's not been too hard to follow! Trying to get as many chapters out as I can so that you guys don't have to wait another eight months for me to write another chapter; again, may end up reworking this though. Enjoy!!

Harry's cries muffled Robert’s footsteps from downstairs as he went to answer the door. In any case, Aaron was much more concerned with getting Harry back to sleep again. _Of fucking course_. 

“Come on, mate”, Aaron exhaled. “Mr Rabbit says going to sleep would be really fun”. He gingerly picked Harry back up again and rocked him, slowly and deliberately, Mr Rabbit pressed lightly against his son’s side. “There we are, mate”. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Oi! _Oi_!” Robert’s incredulous shout echoed through the hallway and up the stairs, Harry responding with louder screams. Aaron’s gaze snapped backwards however, the cold fingers of apprehension sliding softly up his arms, his arm hair getting caught in its icy grasp. He stayed rooted, however, as he heard steps bomb up the rickety stairs, Robert’s voice booming in its wake. “You’ve got until three to get your arse out of this house before I chuck you out myself! Oi!”

“Because you’re so big and strong”, the voice cut through Aaron straight down the middle like a sword. Harry grew weightless in his grasp as his head flung him back to a dark room with intermittent lights…alcohol…alcohol everywhere…that perfectly manicured hand… Scarlet stilettos moved silkily from the darkness of the landing to the light cast by the moon onto the entrance to the room. Smooth legs followed in light brown tights, a red and white polka-dotted dress licking at knobbly knees, and a scarlet duffel coat to match the shoes. Locks of blonde cascaded down her shoulders and over her breasts like a waterfall, curled up at the ends with the wind and the rain howling outside. Her red lipstick shone like acrylic plastic, pouted in defensive strength. Her slender nose led up to those sharp blue eyes, burning into Aaron like ice. “You never did call me back, Aaron Livesy”. 

Time stood utterly still; Aaron could be sure even Harry had stopped crying. He was caught mid-breath, looking straight forward at her. The one who started it. The one he cheated on Robert with. The mother of his child. He couldn’t even remember what she looked like; he’d had been so drunk that night, and she had left the flat before Aaron woke up the next morning. But he knew, he just knew. 

“…three…” Aaron hadn’t heard Robert start counting from down the stairs, but his fiancé coming bounding up the stairs kicked time back into motion. “Now piss off before I make you!” 

“I’m back for my boy”, the woman didn’t even flinch as Robert appeared behind her.

“You’re not going anywhere with him”, Aaron growled, his voice hoarse for all the words he was shouting and screaming in his head. _This is what you deserve. You knew she was gonna come back. You finally bond with your fucking child and he gets taken away._ “You gave up that right when you left him on my doorstep”. 

“I didn’t…” she began, but then stopped herself abruptly, standing taller as though she was resetting herself. “I need Harry back now”. 

“Aaron’s right”, Robert placed a hand on G’s shoulder, G wriggled angrily out of his touch. “You didn’t want to be his mother anymore. We’re his family now”. 

"Come on, Aaron”, G brushed herself down, but never broke her gaze with Aaron. “I’m grateful that you looked after him for a bit, but I was never more than a cheap fuck for you, so why should I let you anywhere near my baby — ?”

“My baby”, Aaron corrected, his brow furrowed and his eyes squinted in angry determination, but catching Robert’s softening gaze from behind her. “You put him on the doorstep at night in November and I’m supposed to let you look after him again? Are you actually mental in the head?” 

“Come on, love, it’s time to go”, Robert rumbled flatly, once again trying to shepherd her from the room. 

“Get off, you perv!” Robert recoiled as G landed a loud slap across his cheek.

“Right”, Aaron put a squealing Harry back down gingerly and got back to his feet, pushing G back out into the hallway. “That is the last time you hit my husband, you deranged bitch”. He turned her around as he pushed her down each step, G pushing back as hard as she could to get back to Harry’s room. “Now, you're gonna get out of here as quick as you fucking can, before I call my mother round here to sort you out properly - got it?” Aaron pushed her out of the door, her hair bedraggled from the skirmish. With one last silent snarl, he slammed the door shut. 

The creaking floorboards of the staircase caught Aaron’s attention as he turned around, Robert carrying Harry as he slowly descended, a lop-sided smile criss-crossing across his features. 

“What’s tickled you?” Aaron growled, still seething with adrenaline from the cheek of it all. 

“You called me your husband”, Robert murmured warmly, Aaron falling into the abyss of Robert’s dark eyes as Robert bit his lip shyly. 

* * *

Aaron insisted that Harry slept with them in their room tonight. Robert’s eyes lit up, Aaron feeling unusually uncomfortable under his gaze. 

“You called me your husband”, Robert mumbled again as he took off his shirt and swung himself into the bed. 

“Alright, alright”, Aaron chuckled to himself, leaning up himself against his fiancé and finding Robert’s hand with his own, trailing his thumb over the top of it. 

“It’s just nice”, Robert replied quietly. “Two weeks ago I didn’t even think you still wanted to be with me…now it’s like we’re a little family. Now Liv just has to move back in and we’re complete”.

“Yeah…” Aaron murmured absent-mindedly, equally as sidetracked by his slip of tongue. _Husband. Robert Sudgen’s husband. Married to Aaron Livesy. Aaron and Robert._ He wouldn’t ever get enough of how that sounded. “Let’s get married soon”, he added accidentally, feeling slightly foolish when he felt it pass his lips. 

“That sounds perfect”, Robert rumbled. “How’s Christmas time?”

Aaron sat back up in shock, eyebrows raised. “But that’s only a month from now…”

“Well, I don’t particularly want to wait much longer, do you?"

“But…we’ve not booked the venue or bought the outfits or sorted the cake…”

“Since when did you care about any of that shit?” Robert looked almost amused. “Are you sure you’re not just making excuses?”

“No, but I know you do”, Aaron replied. “And I was the one who suggested it!”

“It really doesn’t matter to me”, Robert answered, and Aaron believed the honesty that reflected in his earnest gaze. “I’m not marrying you because I want it to be a spectacle; I’ve done that already, and I didn’t particularly enjoy it then. I’m marrying you because I want to be your husband and I know I’ll love you forever so…why wait?”

Aaron put a hand to Robert’s cheek and smiled. “I guess not”. Robert leaned in for the lightest of kisses, but Aaron pulled Robert in and felt the warmth of Robert’s heart beat across his own chest as he deepened the kiss. Fuck, he felt so safe. He felt so loved. As they parted, he felt a flash of regret for his behaviour before, pushing him away when he needed him the most, making Robert feel unloved, feel useless. Aaron was sure Robert would never know how loved he truly was - he didn’t want him to. He wanted Robert to be forever in awe of it. He knew he was in awe of Robert’s capacity to love him, impossibly infinite, stretching into the cold nothingness of tomorrow like a constant sun. Aaron rubbed his thumb over his engagement ring, feeling its smooth warmth encompass his ring finger, reminding him of Robert’s presence, his protection, his support. He almost felt sick in Robert’s overwhelming love, but he basked in it. Revelled in it. 

“I’m so proud of you, Aaron”, Robert whispered as he shuffled down the mattress and laid his head on the pillow. “Know that, yeah?”

“What did I do?” Aaron was genuinely confused. He let himself stretch down the bed and lay his head on the pillow to entangle himself with Robert in front of him. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with you as much as I was when I watched you defend your son”, Robert replied solemnly, not breaking eye contact. “I was so happy that someone else was lucky enough to warrant your undying protection”.

Aaron felt himself go from red to purple, but didn’t break the eye contact. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep him, though”, he confessed, feeling burning shame at such an admission. “Didn’t mean I was going to give him away to her, though. She didn’t deserve a second chance”.

“Yeah”, Robert’s gaze grew clouded; Aaron wondered whether it was because he had finally come face to face with the woman who had wrecked them for so long. “Gotta say, though…for a gay guy, you didn’t do badly at all…”

Aaron scoffed aloud. “You don’t have to pretend to be cool with it, Rob”, he brushed Robert’s cheek with his thumb, but couldn’t look at him in the eye this time. “It can’t have been great seeing who I…who almost ruined us…”

“It’s somehow less threatening when I know you’re not into that…are you…?” Robert’s stare grew momentarily uneasy again. 

“No”, Aaron laughed, feeling bad for finding such a tricky situation funny. “Absolutely not…wouldn’t even know where to begin with her”.

“Good”, Robert smiled once more, thumbing Aaron’s engagement ring in his grasp as he looked into Aaron’s eyes. Aaron saw nothing but love as he drifted off to sleep. 

* * *

The mid-morning sun licked at Aaron’s face through the slightly open curtains, prising his eyes open with its gentle rays. No alarm, no work, Harry wasn’t crying, they could —

Harry wasn’t crying.

Aaron peered up cautiously from where he lay towards the ottoman where Robert had placed the basket. Instantly, Aaron began to feel a tiny bit of dread; _Harry would never sleep a whole night through…_ The fear that he had been taken or…that he may be… Aaron got on his knees and craned his neck to get a better look inside the basket, breath baited as he peered.

Aaron let out a big sigh as he saw Harry’s tiny chest rise and fall softly in a sleepy rhythm. 

“Come back to bed, Aaron”, a wayward arm pulled at Aaron’s torso to bring him back amongst the sheets, Aaron succumbing to the comfort as he wrapped himself around Robert’s smooth body.

“Robert, did you get up for Harry last night?” Aaron pondered aloud as he snuggled closer into the pillow. “I think I slept the whole night through last night”. 

“Don’t think so”, Robert yawned. “Don’t think I’ve slept so well in weeks…”

“So he did sleep the whole night through…” Aaron whispered. “Do you think it’s cos he was in with us?”

“Really hope not”, Robert grumbled, still half-asleep. “Means I can’t shag you nearly as often”. 

“Well he’s still asleep right now…” Aaron began softly, putting a wandering hand over Robert’s torso suggestively. Next thing Aaron knows, Robert’s flipped over in bed, his hair sticking up at all angles, his breath like a landfill site. 

Robert had never seemed sexier. 

* * *

 

“Bet I can swing higher than you”, Liv goaded as she ran over to the swing set in the corner of the play park, mud flinging across Aaron’s pristine black jeans as he followed. “Fiver says as high as the bar!”

“Fiver and you’re cleaning my jeans”, Aaron grumbled jokingly, legs outstretched as the momentum carried him upwards. 

“Never could tell who the biggest kid was between you two”, Chas commented drily as she helped Robert lift the pram over the boggy ground. “You two dun’ ‘alf pick your days out, I need me wellies at this rate!”

“Swear you were never this soft when I was a kid!”, Aaron shouted as he swung further, squinted eyes on his little sister. She was beating him, he could tell, even from right next to her, her light body giving her that extra lift as she soared through the air like a spear. 

“Well, Aaron’s cleaning my shoes now, that’s for sure”, Robert added in irritation from somewhere behind him. “Liked these brogues as well…”

“Just gives ya’n excuse to go buy another pair”, Liv chortled, equally as focussed. A fiver and hours cleaning Aaron’s jeans were at stake, of course. 

“He doesn’t need a bloody excuse”, Aaron snorted, looking straight ahead, focussing on a point way in the distance as he tipped his back back. He can do it. 

Suddenly he saw them, glowing in the distance. They shined through the fog like a beacon, like a friendly lighthouse way out from his tiny boat. Aaron put his feet down as he lost concentration, scrubbing speed and coming to an abrupt stop. 

“Yes!” Liv fist pumped as she slowed, but Aaron didn’t congratulate her. He merely kept staring at them. Those red stilettos. Belonging to those smooth legs in tights, to that duffel coat. To that long, long hair. 

Anger fought with fear as he got up from his seat, peering into the distance at her again. The fog obscured most of his vision, but he could see those stilettos at the grey metal fence that ringed off the playpark from the rest of the village. Watching them. Intruding on his little family. Anger won emphatically. Balling his meaty hands into fists, he launched himself from the swing set across the boggy grass, mud criss-crossing his jeans like veins. He ignored the confused cries from behind him, unable to concentrate on anything but getting her out of their lives once and for all. Water poured into his trainers, making his feet squelch against the sodden soles. 

As he launched himself into the fog, his vision started to clear; her hair was ever more bedraggled from the lashing rain and the howling winds. He could see the lines of tiredness that hugged her eyes, the stressed etched into her forehead like lightning. But Aaron didn’t care. He wanted her gone. 

“Can you not take a fucking hint?” Aaron rumbled through the rain and the fog as he approached the metal fence. 

“Aaron, please”, G’s demeanour was totally different from the last night; she hunched against the power of the elements around her; her head was bowed in desperate humility. “I’d had a drink last night, I handled it badly…”

“No”, Aaron craned his neck to maintain eye contact with her, making her squirm. “You just showed us your true colours, how we couldn't even trust you to not get drunk before making big decisions!”

“What does your husband have to say about all this?” she murmured darkly, straining to look up for a moment. “I knew there was a reason why I wasn’t that impressed with you that night…I just thought you couldn’t get it up at first because you were fucked…I guess you were, just not how I imagined…”

“He’s been a total rock”, Aaron spat back. “The complete opposite to you, I bet. When you don’t get your own way, you just bitch until someone throws you out. Don’t think Harry needs that particular lesson, thanks”. 

“Look, I’m not handling this well, I know”, G bowed her head again. “Please…let me just explain…I owe you that at least, don’t I?”

Aaron shrugged. “I wouldn’t care if I never saw you again, if you ask me”. 

He felt Robert’s long fingers curl around his shoulder in support. “Thought we told you to get lost?”

“Please”, G pleaded. “Just let me explain myself, then I’ll get out of your hair. We could go to that pub at the top of the village?”

“What, so you can get drunk again?” Aaron scoffed, not particularly wanting his mum to have to see all this if she didn’t have to. “No, we’ll go the caff down the road”. 

“You sure, Aaron?” Robert asked, perplexed. “We owe her nothing”. 

“She can say her piece, and then we never have to see her again”, Aaron just looked straight ahead at her. “Then we never have to see…what’s her face ever again”. 

“Gabrielle”, she muttered, peering from under her rain-sodden hood. “My name’s Gabrielle”.

* * *

“Back again?” Bob commented friendlily as he saw Gabrielle enter through the door of the cafe, Aaron and Robert flanking her as they found a seat. 

“Three teas”, she barked back, but immediately looked regretful when Aaron shot a warning glance. “Please”. 

“Not your usual, Mr Sudgen?” Bob remarked as he reached for the mugs behind him. 

“I’ll have that instead, thanks, Bob”, Robert replied flatly, draping his soaked-through coat over the back of his seat. “Go on, then”, he turned and looked at Gabrielle, who suddenly looked fragile and defensive in her seat without her coat on. “What have you got to say for yourself?”

“It’s not as simple as everything seems”, she began, twirling her spoon nervously in the tea Bob had just set down before her as she thought. “When my parents found out I was pregnant…they were…they were so angry, so upset…I was going to have an illegitimate child… Then I suggested that I had an abortion and they threw me out of the house, so I had it —“

“Him”, Aaron grunted in correction. 

“…him”, Gabrielle repeated slowly. “My parents made me promise that I’d give it, him, away in return for them staying in my life…”

“And you actually want that?” Aaron screwed up his face sceptically. 

“They’re my parents, whatever they think!” Gabrielle protested in vain, Robert and Aaron’s eyebrows both raised in doubt. “I’ve never had many friends I could count on…my parents are there for me…”

“Except when raising your baby”, Robert pointed out sharply. “Why do you want him back now?”

“Because…because they’ve had a change of heart, and I never wanted to give him away to anyone —“

“Even though I’m not just anyone, I’m his dad — !”

“I wanted him with me!” Tears started to stream down Gabrielle’s face, her mascara running like the rain outside as she did. “But my parents wouldn’t talk to me if I had, and I need them, Aaron, I need them! Even if I do go around being easy or if I’m not settling down, I need them to support me, I need them to keep me on the straight and narrow…they’ve always known what’s best…”

“And I’m supposed to want to be happy to let you have my son back when you can’t even look after yourself and your parents decide what's right and wrong for you?” Aaron turned up his nose. “Not in a million years. I don’t trust ya. So you’re wasting both of our time now”. 

“Please, Aaron”, her nose grew snottier as her cries got more desperate. “If you don’t do it now, I can’t promise my dad won’t do something…and I don’t want you to get hurt…I’ll try to stop him, but he’s…”

“Well I can’t promise that if I do get hurt, ya dad won’t be seeing the inside of cell walls or A&E”, Aaron sneered. “But you’re not having Harry. You gave him up. He doesn’t deserve you”.

Gabrielle looked at Robert in desperate hope; Robert just pointed to the door with his eyebrows. “Fine”, she conceded quietly, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you”. She picked up her small red handbag, swivelled on the heels of her stilettos and exited.

* * *

 

“Get this round ya”, Robert handed Aaron one of the big blankets from upstairs as Aaron put the last of his socks on the radiator to dry. “You’ll catch your death if you’re not careful”.

Aaron shrugged, but accepted the blanket with a small kiss. “Harry asleep?”

“Yeah, he was spark out”, Robert sighed as he curled up on the sofa with piping hot tea in his hand. Aaron could feel the steam from his own tickle his eyes and his nose luxuriously, and he savoured it for as long as he could. “It’s been quite a day for him”. 

“Tell me about it”, Aaron grumbled. “Why can’t things just settle down, eh? Why does there always have to be something to ruin it whenever things actually get alright? What is it about her that always makes her come back at the worst moments?”

“Life has a habit of doing that for us”, Robert cracked a wry smile as he replied, dunking a shortbread biscuit casually as he did. “If they make any trouble, we have the moral high ground anyway”. 

“I guess”, Aaron answered. “All of this chaos isn’t good for Harry, though, all this moving about…”

“Well”, Robert started, chewing his lip as though he was contemplating how best to express himself. “He’s going to have to get used to the moving about if you decide not to — “

“He’s not going anywhere”, Aaron said definitely. “He’s not going back to her, he’s not going up for adoption…I’ve got this chance to be a good person for a change, to give someone a really nice life and prepare them for the world in a loving family, with you, and Mum, and Liv, and Vic and Adam, and Diane…we don’t even know what sort of family would get Harry otherwise…”

“You were always a good person, Aaron”, Robert placed a warm hand on Aaron’s leg and smiled, “there’s the proof. I’m well proud of you today”, he added, Aaron having to look away from Robert’s intent look in acute embarrassment, “and Harry is lucky to have you”. 

“He’s lucky to have all of you guys, an’ all”, Aaron laughed humourlessly. “Without you guys, poor thing’d probably be in an orphanage right now…”, Aaron looked up straight into Robert’s eyeline and softened his expression. “And I’m lucky to have you as well, Daddy number two”. 

“Daddy…” the word melted into Robert’s mouth like the sweetest candy floss, his eyes lighting up as he basked in the word. “Guess I am, then”. 

Aaron smiled contentedly at the thought of his own little family. 

The man in the car that had just pulled up outside the house hated the very idea. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh. Kudos and comments are really appreciated, and thanks everyone who read this far!! :)


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